


Echoes of a God

by Peppermint_Shamrock



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Identity Reveal, Injury, Magic, Marinette Dupain-Cheng-centric, Minor Violence, light romantic flagship but mostly friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2020-10-11 20:16:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20552087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peppermint_Shamrock/pseuds/Peppermint_Shamrock
Summary: Marinette’s Miraculous has been taken – not by Papillon or one of his minions, but by an ordinary civilian wanting the glory of Ladybug for herself. The forcible separation from her earrings leaves part of Tikki’s power still clinging to Marinette.The consequences are worse than anyone could have anticipated, as Paris struggles to cope under a new, ineffective Ladybug, whose weakened powers are not enough to fully restore the city. And for Marinette, time is running out – without the Miraculous to contain it, the lingering power slowly takes its toll on her mortal body.Unless she can get her earrings back soon, Marinette won’t live to see another year.





	1. Stolen Earrings

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! I actually started writing this a while ago, but now that I have about 5 chapters written, I've decided to start posting it. Currently planning to upload a chapter twice a week, on Wednesdays and weekends.
> 
> Canon divergent from, say, after Robustus but before any new heroes are brought on.

A single moment of carelessness was all it took for Marinette’s life to be ruined.

During battle, she couldn’t afford to be careless. But after an attack, after she had purified the akuma, restored the city, and shared a fistbump with Chat Noir, after she had slipped into the shadows to return unnoticed to her normal life, it was natural to relax, just a little.

And perhaps her attacker knew that. Perhaps that was why they had followed in the shadows, striking like a snake when Marinette had the slightest lapse in vigilance.

Marinette had only just slipped into the alley, and hadn’t even started to detransform when she felt someone leap onto her from behind. She stiffened and immediately twisted, trying to break free of her assailant. But even though her Miraculous granted strength and flexibility beyond normal human capabilities, there was little she could do when the other person had latched themself to her from behind. And judging from the way they were clawing at her, this wasn't merely an overenthusiastic fan.

She was too shocked to even scream with pain as her assailant tore off one of her earrings. She could only gasp and desperately increase her struggling as panic spiked through her. No, no, she couldn't let them have her Miraculous, she couldn't let anyone find out who she was, she couldn't let them win…

But all her panic could do nothing in the end, as the assailant twisted around her, pinning her wrists together and shoving them painfully against the wall with one hand, and reaching around to Marinette’s other ear. Marinette kicked uselessly towards the assailant, who twisted and spun out of reach, scraping Marinette’s hands against the brick. Marinette tried to pull away, but all her struggling and panic was for nothing.

This time, she did cry out as the other earring was ripped from her. The thief released her almost immediately, and Marinette fell forward. As she scrambled to right herself, she could see the thief straighten up. Though their face and much of their body was concealed under a thick coat, there was no mistaking that her assailant was holding a posture of triumph, earrings clutched in thinly gloved hands.

Marinette lunged at them – her identity might have been shot, but like hell was she letting this thief make off with her Miraculous and with Tikki. The thief, however, was quicker, and fled. Marinette, ignoring her pain, chased after them, the only thought in her mind about getting Tikki and her earrings back. Tikki and Chat Noir and everyone was depending on her. She couldn’t fail them now, not again, she couldn’t…

The thief darted through the crowds and buildings, pulling further and further ahead. The people and places blurred past Marinette as she pushed through the crowd. Eventually they slipped out of sight entirely. Marinette continued to give chase for a few blocks, following the paths that she thought the thief might have taken, before she finally slowed and came to a stop, breathing heavily.

“No…” she choked out.

The world spun around her as her throat seemed to close up, dizziness setting in as she gasped for breath, as her heart pounded rapidly in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the city streets around her. She’d failed. She’d failed everyone and lost her Miraculous and there was _nothing_ she could do about it.

No. This couldn’t be it, this couldn’t be the end. There had to be another way, there always was. She couldn’t give into despair and get akumatized on top of this. She had to do something, anything…

Master Fu. She could go to him, he’d know what to do.

She pushed herself onwards again, not even caring for the strange looks she received as she ran back through the streets, not stopping until she reached the little parlor. She pushed through the door, startling Fu from his meditation. His eyes widened as he took in her state, and Wayzz gasped.

“I’m sorry!” Marinette said, “I’m sorry, I tried to stop them, they took the Miraculous, they took Tikki, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Fu put his hands on Marinette’s shoulders to steady her.

“Breathe,” he told her. “Center yourself.”

“I lost them, I lost my Miraculous, I messed up…”

“First,” Fu said firmly, but gently, “we need to clean and bandage your wounds.”

Oh. She _was_ bleeding, wasn’t she?

She allowed herself to be sat down as he went about getting cloth and disinfectant. Wayzz looked her over with concern, while she tried to calm herself as best she could. It was…well, it wasn’t alright now, but it was better. They could make a plan. They could do something. They weren’t disappointed in her.

She winced at the stinging pain as Fu treated her injuries. She must’ve looked quite a sight when she’d barged in, no wonder they had reacted the way they did. She had barely even noticed it when she had been panicking, but as she settled, she became uncomfortably aware of the extent of her injuries.

Either she was going to have to sneak past her parents for the next couple of days, or she had to think up some convincing explanation. Her usual clumsiness wasn’t going to cut it.

And of course, she had a bigger problem to worry about. As he bandaged her, she told Fu, as calmly as she could manage at the moment, what had happened. He sat back and frowned with a tense worry in his face.

“Wayzz sensed that something went wrong, but I couldn’t have predicted how devastating it really was. This…” he closed his eyes briefly, “this is troubling. The consequences for Paris could be dire.”

Marinette shrank in on herself.

“I know,” she said. “It’s all my fault, I should have been more careful.”

Fu shook his head. “I’m certain that you did whatever you could.  Nevertheless, the Ladybug Miraculous is the only one that can purify akumas. If it has fallen into Papillon’s hands…”

“I don’t think the thief was akumatized or Papillon himself,” Marinette said. “They were wearing normal clothes, and moved like a normal person.”

“I didn’t detect the involvement of any of the Butterfly’s power,” Wayzz said.

“That’s a relief – a small one, and we can’t be sure that the Miraculous won’t end up in Papillon’s hands, but a relief nonetheless,” he said. “But on the other hand, we don’t know our enemy – we can’t predict their actions. The best case scenario is that they intend to demand a ransom.”

“I can pay a ransom,” Marinette said. “As long as it means Paris is safe, I don’t care about the cost.” She couldn’t continue being Ladybug in that case (or maybe any case), but as long as she could get the earrings back to Master Fu discretely, then someone else could be chosen and Paris would be defended again.

“The worst case scenario, of course, is the earrings being passed to Papillon. Or this thief using them to cause harm by themself.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” Marinette asked.

“If it were that easy to track down a missing Miraculous, we would’ve found Papillon by now, wouldn’t we?” Fu said with a small, rueful smile. “No, I’m afraid not, Marinette. Unless Tikki escapes on her own, all we can do is wait for the thief to make their move.”

“I can’t just sit back and do nothing while Tikki is in the hands of some thief,” Marinette protested. “Everyone could be in danger!”

“I know,” he said. “And I understand how you feel. But our options are limited, and you are injured. Even if there was something we could do, you need to rest and recover first.”

Marinette’s heart sank even lower than it had already been brought. More than anything, she hated feeling helpless, she hated knowing that if only she’d been more careful about where she’d detransformed, if only she’d fought better, if only…

But “if only” did nothing for any of them, and she reluctantly agreed that she was in no state at the moment to be much help at all.

Master Fu gave her instructions for continuing treatment of her injuries, instructing her how often to change the bandages, and to check for signs of infection, insisting she return to him if things didn’t improve or if anything unusual happened. She agreed, and told him and Wayzz both that at the first sign that the thief had made their move, she’d come running back. They both agreed and said they’d figure out what to do from there.

Marinette returned home. Her parents reacted as she expected, concerned over the bandages. She stumbled through an excuse of being mugged – it wasn’t far from the truth, after all, and told them that a friend had patched her up.

The bakery was closed up early, Marinette was herded into the living room, and given warm tea immediately. She didn’t have the heart to tell them that she’d already been given tea at Fu’s, so she drank it.

“Did you go to the police?” Sabine asked. Marinette shook her head.

“No need for the police, I’ll track down this guy myself!” Tom said in a low, almost growly voice. “I’ll show him that no one hurts my daughter and gets away with it!”

“Tom,” Sabine scolded, “this sort of thing should be handled by the police. You shouldn’t encourage vigilantism.”

“Why not? We have Ladybug and Chat Noir out there, don’t we?”

Marinette swallowed the lump in her throat. Not anymore, they didn’t.

“That’s different,” Sabine said. “They’re superheroes.”

“I’ll put on a costume too, if that’s what it takes,” Tom insisted.

“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” Marinette interrupted. “They were wearing a coat; I never saw what they looked like. Reporting it wouldn’t do any good.” She stood up and set her teacup on the table. “I’m worn out from everything, I think I’ll go up to bed if that’s alright.”

Sabine’s face softened.

“Of course,” she said. “You should rest. If you want, we can call off school tomorrow…”

“That’s not necessary,” Marinette said quickly, because she knew she’d drive herself crazy waiting for something to happen if she didn’t have school to distract her. “I’ll be okay after some sleep.” A lie, but what else could she say? She didn’t want her parents to worry, and she couldn’t tell them the full weight of what had happened, either.

She made the lonely trek up to her room, feeling Tikki’s absence more strongly than ever. She hoped she was okay, wherever she was. Maybe, just maybe, she had gotten away. Or maybe she was still safely tucked away in the earrings, the thief unable to figure out how to activate them. Marinette hoped at the very least, whoever had taken Tikki wouldn’t be cruel to her.

She didn’t have much hope, though.

Marinette would get her back. She had to.

But until something happened, she could only wait restlessly as she worried over what lay in store for her, and for Paris. Would Papillon give up, if the Ladybug Miraculous was nowhere to be found? Somehow, she doubted it. Would Chat Noir find another way, a way to fight without her? She didn’t know. What would the city think when their hero had let them all down and disappeared without a trace?

With a million questions and worries weighing on her mind, Marinette slipped into an uneasy sleep, and waited for the morning to come.


	2. The Day After

Marinette did not feel rested when she woke up, to no surprise. Still, she dragged herself out of bed, knocking things around to avoid the heavy silence. Once or twice, she caught herself starting to say something as she went about her morning routine, causing her to catch on her breath as she felt the absence fresh each time. She knew that Tikki was gone and there was no one to have a conversation with, but habit was a hard thing to break.

“I’ll get her back,” she said quietly. She just had to stay calm, and she’d find a way to fix things. Right. She needed to be positive.

Marinette dug out her first aid kit for fresh bandages, and slowly unwound the ones she’d left on overnight. She leaned close to the mirror to examine them for any signs of infection. Fortunately, she didn’t see any. In fact, her ears didn’t look too bad at all this morning – certainly not as bad as they had felt yesterday. She could probably get by without bandages, even, which would be a relief – if her injuries went unnoticed, she wouldn’t have to explain anything to her classmates. Bandages would be far more noticeable than the current condition of her ears.

She tucked the fresh bandages back into the first aid kit, and went downstairs.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Sabine asked. “We can still call the school if you want.”

“No, thank you,” Marinette said. “Look, my ears are a lot better this morning. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not just about your ears, dear,” Sabine said gently. “It’s okay to take a break after something scary like that.”

“I’ll be fine,” Marinette repeated. There was no way she’d be able to handle the silence all day – she needed to go to school if only so she wouldn’t replay everything over and over in her mind and constantly worry about Tikki.

“If you’re sure,” Sabine said, gently brushing Marinette’s hair from her forehead. “Your father and I are here for you, I hope you know that.”

“I do,” Marinette said, privately feeling guilty that she couldn’t be fully honest with her parents about what had happened. But she knew that it was for the best. The last thing her parents – or anyone – needed was to have to start worrying about a lack of Ladybug around to protect the city.

She’d probably go to Master Fu’s this evening even if nothing happened, just so _she_ wasn’t worrying about that.

But school came first, and so Marinette headed off, hoping that she hid her heavy, troubled heart well enough as she tried not to think of what the future would bring. She had considered putting her hair down to cover her ears, but decided that would attract more attention and questioning than the scrapes would. And though the pain had faded to a dull ache, hair constantly brushing up against the injury would probably irritate it.

Marinette slipped in to her seat next to Alya, and tried to act normally. At the same time, she braced herself for Alya to take note of her injuries or her downcast demeanor, and begin asking questions. 

But it never happened. Alya greeted her as normal, and went back to talking with Nino, as though nothing had changed.

Perhaps part of her really _did_ want someone to notice that something was wrong. For someone else to realize just how things had gone horribly wrong and how miserable she was. For someone to comfort her and reassure her that she didn’t have to pretend that everything was alright. So she wouldn’t have to feel so alone in all this… 

But everyone had their own lives; everyone went about their own world. The things that seemed so big and devastating and life-shattering to her were localized and minimal to others. Her condition seemed so obvious to her because she was living it, but to her classmates and friends…it really wasn’t as evident as she feared.

And in a way, even though it made her feel somewhat isolated (how well did they know each other, really, if no one could tell anything was wrong?), there was comfort in that, too. Life went on, even when something so horrible had happened. It made her troubles feel smaller, and that gave her more confidence that she could do something about it.

At the same time, though, Marinette knew that this was something that would eventually affect her friends. Though for now, nothing had changed for them, only for her – when Ladybug no longer showed up to protect the city, then they would feel the impact. Then, it wouldn’t be so small.

But she couldn’t let herself dwell on that. She could run through plan after plan in her head, but nothing would change until something happened. Worrying would only make her feel worse.

But since no amount of rationalizing stopped anxiety, Marinette sought to distract herself instead, pulling out her sketchbook and forcing herself to put pencil to page. She sketched away, waiting for the school day to start, as conversation washed around her.

“Hey, Alya, do you have a spare pen?”

“Nope,” Alya said, before her voice turned sly as it did when she was up to something, “but maybe _Marinette_ could lend you one, right, Marinette?”

Marinette jumped as Alya jostled her with her elbow.

“Huh? What?”

“_Adrien_ here had his pen run dry, and I thought you could lend him one, right?” Alya said, grinning as she did when she was sure she was helping Marinette talk to Adrien.

“Oh! Right. A pen. For Adrien,” Marinette said, fumbling around her words as she looked up to see him looking at the pair of them hopefully. “I mean, I might, I…”

She did not have a spare pen.

But she couldn’t disappoint Adrien when he was looking at her like that!

“I…I’ll look,” she managed, and reached into her backpack to blindly scramble around in the vain hope that she would find one. To her mild surprise, her fingers brushed against something that certainly felt like a pen.

She plucked it out, and sure enough, it was a pen. Not one that she recognized, however, but given that it was red with black dots, it was probably one of Alya’s that had made its way into her things by accident. Or possibly on purpose, given how Alya was pushing her towards Adrien with this.

“H…here you go,” Marinette said, handing it to Adrien. She couldn’t fully appreciate the way his hands brushed against hers or the way he smiled and thanked her, but it did cheer her up more than anything else had so far.

Alya poked her in the side.

“Hey, where’d you get the Ladybug pen? I want one like that!”

Marinette blinked.

“I thought it was yours,” she said, confused. Alya was the one who went out of her way to get Ladybug merch, not her, and truth be told, Marinette didn’t want to be reminded of Ladybug-related things right now after everything that had happened.

“It’s definitely not mine, I would know,” Alya said, sincerely. “I’m jealous; it looks really nice.”

“Oh. Okay,” Marinette said, and shrugged. If it wasn’t Alya’s, she had no clue where she would’ve gotten a Ladybug-themed pen. “I don’t remember getting it, but I must have picked it up somewhere. If Adrien gives it back, you’re welcome to it.”

“You’re too good to me,” Alya said, smiling. Marinette waved her off. It wasn’t a big deal, after all.

Alya still hadn’t noticed anything. That was probably for the best.

The school day continued as normal, though Marinette still couldn’t quite relax. As much as she tried to stay focused on school, her thoughts kept drifting to the thief and to Tikki.  She knew it wasn’t doing any good, but she couldn’t stop herself. She was restless; she couldn’t plan when the future was so uncertain. The thief needed to make a move so Marinette could at least do  _something_ .

The lunch break brought little relief. Marinette went home, as she usually did, but her parents were busy with the bakery and Marinette didn’t want to trouble them.  She prepared herself a lunch, but as she sat down to eat it, she found that she wasn’t very hungry. She poked at her meal for a while before giving up and sticking it in the fridge for later. Instead, she got a glass of water and took it up to her room with her.

She tried to design, but couldn’t think of anything. Searching for inspiration only brought her thoughts back to where she didn’t want them to go.

Marinette gulped down her glass of water, and powered up Ultimate Mecha Strike. That proved to be a much better distraction, as she took out her worries on the digital enemies one after another.

It was only a distraction, but at least it was something.

She soon found herself thirsty again, so she paused the game and stood up, reaching for her cup at the same time.

To her surprise, the cup was not empty as she had thought, and water spilled all over her.

“Great,” she grumbled, moving quickly to clean up the mess before it damaged her game controller. This really wasn’t her day.

By the time she’d cleaned up the spill and changed clothes, it was time to head back to class, and Marinette set off, resigned to the fact that the day would not be getting any better. She hoped that at least it wouldn’t get worse.

Of course, the universe couldn’t let her have even that much, could it?

Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette saw something flying towards her, and she instinctively ducked and rolled beside the school’s front steps to shield herself. She reoriented herself, and peered around the corner as she crouched low against the stair wall.

“I’m Bricklayer! And I’ll get what I’m owed, one way or another!”

Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw a man, clearly akumatized, throwing bricks left and right as he hovered over the streets, shouting at the screaming, fleeing pedestrians. The moment had come, far too soon, when people would realize that Ladybug had disappeared. The moment had come when the real consequences of losing her earrings would begin.

What would happen now? Would the thief make their move? And what of Papillon?

Marinette clenched her fists. The words to transform were, as habit, on the tip of her tongue, but they were useless to her now.

But she was Ladybug with or without her earrings, and she _couldn’t_ just stand by and do nothing. One way or another, Marinette was going to help protect her city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: The thief makes her debut as "Ladybug", while Marinette tries to warn Chat Noir!


	3. Brand New Bug

Keeping up was frustratingly difficult. Bricklayer moved faster than Marinette did, and had an annoying tendency to rise up into the sky. The rooftops, once her preferred route of transportation, were all but inaccessible to her now. Marinette had no choice but to follow on foot, protected only by a random motorcycle helmet that she had…uh…_borrowed_, in order to shield herself from the rain of bricks.

Above her, Chat Noir challenged Bricklayer. Marinette called out to him, hoping that baiting him to rescue her would give her the chance to warn him and tell him what had happened, but he was too focused on his opponent. Or rather, focused on cracking jokes at his opponent while batting away bricks with his staff.

For a moment, it seemed to be working in his favor – he batted the individual bricks away easily, never breaking his nonchalant posture. But Bricklayer wasn’t dissuaded in the least, and his stream of bricks briefly stopped as he backed up, raising his hands up into the air. This time, he summoned not a series of bricks, but a whole mass of them stuck together, which he lobbed at Chat Noir.

With a yelp, Chat Noir barely dodged the brick sphere, and jumped from building to building as he avoided the next few sent his way. And unfortunately, in the process, getting further and further away from Marinette.

Bricklayer turned away, ignoring Chat Noir as he returned to terrorizing the streets. Marinette snuck along the side of the street, avoiding the renewed rain of bricks as she tried to make her way to at least the base of the building where Chat Noir had ended up. But then, something that was not a brick or Bricklayer flew overhead, and Marinette saw red, in more than one sense.

The thief! So she’d decided to use the earrings for herself, huh?

Marinette forgot caution as she ran in that direction. The impostor was headed right for Chat Noir, and Marinette would be damned if she was going to let the thief get a hold of his Miraculous, too.

But even from this distance, she could see how Chat Noir’s posture stiffened as the impostor landed on his rooftop. Immediately, he brought his staff defensively in front of him, and though Marinette was too far to hear anything that was being said, she was cheered that her partner would not be taken in so easily.

The thief held up her hands in a placating gesture, and Marinette watched as the pair of them appeared to argue back and forth for a few moments. Eventually, Chat Noir lowered his staff, but he remained tense as the pair of them turned back towards Bricklayer.

Marinette was relieved. Chat Noir’s Miraculous was safe for now, and he didn’t seem to trust this girl much, either. And at least if the thief was willing to do the job, Paris would be safe. That was a weight off Marinette’s back, even if she didn’t like that Tikki was being used by someone like that. But better her than Papillon.

But the thief wouldn’t be very familiar with the abilities of the Miraculous yet, so there was still danger that her inexperience could land the earrings in Papillon’s grasp. Marinette couldn’t let that happen. And if she happened to be able to get the earrings back herself, well…that was the best outcome.

Feeling more optimistic than she had in the past twenty four hours, Marinette resumed her pursuit of Bricklayer. Wherever he went, Chat Noir and Fakebug were sure to follow, so that was where Marinette needed to be.

She felt the strain of her muscles, the pounding of her heart and feet against the pavement, present and limiting in a way that was usually absent when she had been transformed. But as she couldn’t transform, she let the adrenaline carry her forward, compartmentalizing her discomfort to a place distant and buried in the back of her mind by her sheer drive. She _would_ fix this. She _would_ get Tikki back. She would accept nothing else.

Keeping up with Bricklayer was difficult, but following him wasn’t – Marinette only had to follow the trail of destruction he left in his wake. She tripped several times, of course, but she hardly let it faze her – she just rolled into her falls and jumped right back up, never losing momentum for a moment or caring at all about the scrapes and bruises she sustained.

And finally, finally, she made it. Rounding the corner, she barely had a moment for smug satisfaction as Bricklayer sent the Fakebug flying, before he rounded on his other target.

“Chat Noir!”

Without slowing down, Marinette dove at him, pulling him into a roll across the torn up pavement. She winced in pain as her legs and arms were scraped up, but pushed it away into the recesses of her mind again. They’d avoided the rain of bricks at least, and now Marinette had the chance to say something about the thief.

“Chat Noir,” she gasped out. “That ladybug, she…”

But Marinette never got the chance to finish, as Bricklayer snarled in frustration and yanked her off the hero.

Marinette cried out as she was flung away. The air rushed past her as she frantically tried to twist herself to soften her landing, to little avail. She crashed against a wall and slid to the ground doubled over, all the breath knocked from her lungs. And probably more than a few things broken.

But that didn’t matter. Her helmet had protected her from the worst, and the restoration powers of the Ladybug Miraculous would fix everything. Just as soon as she could tell Chat Noir to get it back…

Marinette managed to look up, just as her only exit was filled up with a precarious tower of bricks.

“Hey! Whoever you are, just hang on, I’ll get you out…Cata…” Chat Noir’s voice came from beyond the obstacle, before being cut off with a yelp. Marinette struggled to her feet, finding her breath returning.

“Chat Noir! Can you hear me?” she managed weakly, and winced. Even if Bricklayer hadn’t forced him away from the wall, she doubted that her voice would’ve made it through. “Chat Noir!” she tried again, louder this time.

But no answer came.

Marinette swore. She’d missed her chance, and now Chat Noir was at the mercy of both Bricklayer and the Fakebug. She had faith in her partner, but she still didn’t know what to expect from the thief.

She eyed the tower of bricks warily. She wasn’t going to be able to push through that, and it would probably collapse and crush her if she even tried. Taking a step back, she scanned the enclosed area, looking for an alternate way out. But Marinette was surrounded by nothing but buildings, too smooth for her to attempt to climb out – her only exit blocked by the tower of bricks that was swaying dangerously.

A pang of despair at her helplessness ran through her. Was all she could do really just sitting and waiting – hoping that Bricklayer was defeated properly without her? How had she let this happen?

As the adrenaline faded, the distance between her mind and her injuries faded too. Fortunately for Marinette, they didn’t seem as bad as she would’ve expected. Perhaps, somehow, nothing was even broken. Bruised, certainly, but nothing too troubling. And it would all be fixed at the end of the battle – provided Fakebug was successful, of course.

That thought caused Marinette to despair again. She missed Tikki. She missed knowing that the little kwami would reassure her and restore her confidence when Marinette doubted herself. Now, she had no Tikki, and no confidence, and very little hope. Even the small, stubborn part of her that whispered that there had to be a way, there was always a way, sounded feeble in her mind. She was well and truly stuck, and it was all her fault. She hadn’t been able to stop the thief, she hadn’t been able to reach Chat Noir, she hadn’t been able to…

The tower of bricks tilted perilously, and Marinette’s eyes went wide, adrenaline returning as she recognized what was about to happen. Her doubts irrelevant for the moment, Marinette scrambled back, her only thought the instinct to escape. But there was nowhere…

And then her hand caught on something as she scrambled against the wall behind her. Without thinking, she grasped it, turning herself around and pulling herself up as bricks started to fall. Again and again her fingers scratched at the wall, always catching on another handhold, pulling herself just ahead of the crashing tower.

Breathing heavily, she reached the roof, plopping herself down in exhaustion from her narrow escape.

_Those handholds weren’t there before_, Marinette thought. She had checked, hadn’t she? There had been no way out. And yet, when she had needed it, when she would’ve been crushed otherwise, it had seemed there had been something to grasp wherever she had reached. And sure enough, when she peered down below, little bars dotted the wall in a haphazard way that could serve no conceivable purpose – except to let a desperate teenager escape from certain death by falling bricks.

Marinette felt a chill, drawing her arms around herself. Things just didn’t _appear_ like that. And it wasn’t anything consistent with the Akuma’s powers this time, or anything else Marinette could think of. Even Lucky Charm, which could generate something she needed out of nothing, required one – her Miraculous, and two – her conscious activation of that power. So something _weird_ was going on, and Marinette wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with that.

She shook her head. She had more pressing concerns – namely, how to get her earrings and Tikki back from the thief. Making contact with Chat Noir was the best option she had, but the battle had already been carried away from here, and Marinette knew she had reached her stamina limit for the time being.

It was a relief when the waves of ladybugs washed over the city. Marinette held her arms out to them, grateful for their brief presence even if it hadn’t come from her. She didn’t like that the Miraculous was in the hands of the thief, but she also knew it could be so much worse. She had to be positive about this – at the very least, Papillon hadn’t won, and Paris was still safe.

Her relief was short-lived, however. As Marinette stood up, she found to her surprise that she was still bruised and scraped up – though not quite as bad as before. She frowned. Alright, so maybe the restoration powers didn’t handle injuries incurred from tripping over the Akuma’s destruction. But she’d never heard Alya complain about straining anything or any other normal injuries from chasing after superheroes…

And then Marinette glanced down from where she had climbed up the wall.

And gasped.

“No,” she said softly, unable to tear her eyes away. Because there, on the street below, where she had narrowly escaped from death, was something more troubling than anything she had seen yet. Reduced in size, but definitely, impossibly, _horrifyingly_ still there…was the pile of bricks. And there was only one conclusion Marinette could come to.

The powers of the Ladybug Miraculous had failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Marinette goes back to Master Fu, who has some startling conclusions about everything that has happened.


	4. Echoed Power

“I was afraid that this would happen.”

Marinette looked up from where she was seated, her hands still clasped around the teacup that she hadn’t drank a sip from as she’d recounted the events of the battle to Master Fu. His face was drawn tight, his eyes grave as he finally responded.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why would the Miraculous only partially fix things? Is it…is it broken?”

“No,” he said. “Or if it is, we have another problem on our hands. But no, I don’t believe it’s broken. This…this is something else entirely, Marinette. Forgive me for not mentioning the possibility earlier, but I had hoped…I had hoped that you had avoided this…”

He sounded terribly sad, and Marinette felt a spike of anxiety at his words. That she’d avoided _what_?

Master Fu sighed, and sat down across from Marinette. Wayzz approached, hovering nervously by his shoulder.

“When the Miraculous is forcibly removed from a transformed wielder, it isn’t a clean break. Sometimes, especially when there is a strong bond between kwami and wielder, some of the kwami’s power remains attached to wielder,” he explained, a heavy weight in his voice. “The stronger the bond, the more the separation will be resisted.”

“Tikki’s power…is in me?” Marinette said, her eyes widening at this revelation. “Instead of the Miraculous?”

“Yes,” he said. “That’s why the Miraculous’s power is weakened. It no longer channels Tikki’s full power.”

“But, if that were true, then shouldn’t I be…I don’t know, partially transformed? But I’m not. I can’t use Lucky Charm, or restore the rest of the city myself. I don’t have any access to her powers without the Miraculous.”

“Don’t you?” Master Fu asked quietly. “Have you looked at your injuries?”

On instinct, Marinette raised her fingers to her left ear, brushing them gently against where the earring had been torn out.

She felt nothing but smooth earlobe.

With her other hand, she quickly set down her teacup, ignoring how it sloshed out liquid onto the mat. Raising trembling fingers, she touched her right ear. Immediately, she dropped both arms, breathing rapidly. And as she looked across the rest of her body, she saw that her scrapes and bruises were already fading, not even leaving so much as a scar behind.

Without even being aware of it, she’d been using that missing power to heal herself. And, as she began to grow dizzy, she realized that wasn’t the only unconscious magic she’d used. The handholds, the pen, the water…and who knows what other things she had created without even _noticing_…

“Breathe, Marinette,” Wayzz said, floating over to her. “Master Fu and I will help you.”

Marinette snapped back into the moment, trying to slow her shallow breathing.

“How am I ever going to keep this a secret?” she asked. By comparison, protecting her identity as Ladybug was easy, because at least she had had control over that. Not that she had a Miraculous to protect anymore, but surely she would attract unwanted attention if she was creating things out of thin air left and right. That just wasn’t _normal_ and far too many questions would be asked and assumptions made. Especially if Alya was the one to notice.

“You are the conduit for the power, not the power itself,” Wayzz explained. “So you can have more control than a kwami would. We can work on awareness and focus.”

Marinette nodded, her breathing becoming steadier as she calmed. “Will Tikki be alright?”

“We kwamis are resilient beings,” Wayzz assured her. “It won’t be pleasant for her - she will be more tired, weaker, and will need to recharge more often – but she will make it through this.”

Finally, some positive news. Of course, Marinette felt bad that Tikki would be in such a state, but it was a relief to know that she wasn’t suffering any more than that, and that there would be no long-term damage once she returned the power to Tikki.

…How _did_ she return the power to Tikki?

She voiced her question, and Master Fu frowned deeper, eyes still worryingly sad.

“Once attached to a conduit, power will continue flowing through it until that conduit is destroyed. In other words, this power will remain with you until your death, Marinette.”

Marinette gasped – surely that wasn’t the only way to help Tikki!

“However,” Fu continued. “the power split can be mitigated if you were to unite the two conduits.”

“So, if I get the earrings back and wear them always, Tikki will be fine?” Marinette said, her words colored with hope. It had been what she had been intending to do anyway. Master Fu nodded. “Or if I die, her power will return to her wherever she is. But I’d rather avoid that,” she continued cheerily. Her humor faded when she saw Master Fu’s face grow even sadder. “What? What is it?”

“Marinette,” he said softly. “As Wayzz said, you have become a conduit – essentially a Miraculous yourself. But the human body isn’t meant to directly channel that kind of power.”

Silence swallowed the room as Marinette processed and accepted Fu’s words.

“Oh,” she said, feeling oddly calm. “So I’m going to die.”

It was weird that that didn’t send her into another anxiety attack, but perhaps it was easier to deal with a certainty rather than a million uncertain anxieties. She would die, but since she knew exactly what she was dealing with, she could plan exactly for it.

“Unless you can retrieve the earrings before your body breaks down,” Fu said. “Then yes, you are going to die soon, Marinette.”

“How long do I have?” she asked, still feeling detached and unafraid of her certain doom.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Since the power of creation has the capacity to heal, it may offset some of the effects of channeling it through your body. But only to a point – eventually your body will be worn down, even if it will take longer than it would with a different Miraculous. If I were to guess…you have perhaps a year. At most.”

Marinette shuddered to think what would’ve happened if this had happened to her partner. The power of destruction would no doubt be merciless in its ravaging of a mortal conduit. Dying or not, she was going to make damn well sure that the thief didn’t so much as lay a hand on Chat Noir.

But a year. Alright, she could work with that. Even survive, if she acted quickly.

“The thief seems to be taking on the Ladybug duties,” she said. “She’ll be out in the open enough to confront. If you’ll allow it, I can use one of the other Miraculouses, and…”

“No,” Fu cut her off firmly. “With your body acting as a conduit, another Miraculous would be too much – it would kill you almost instantly. I’m sorry, Marinette – you’ll have to find another way.”

Marinette sat back. Okay, so that idea was out. But she could still work with this. It would just take more time, time which she may or may not truly have. But it was a risk she would have to take.

“I understand,” she said. “I will think of something, Master. I promise you that. I won’t let Paris down again.”

“You still must take care to protect your secret,” he reminded her. “It’s just as important as ever – if the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous fall into Papillon’s hand, he will be unable to use their combined power as long as part of the Ladybug’s power remains with you. But if he were to discover you…”

“I will,” Marinette promised firmly. “I’ll do everything I can to hide this. I won’t let Papillon win.”

Master Fu and Wayzz followed up by teaching her a few exercises for being aware of her magic use, to try to direct that unconscious use into a more conscious one. It was a different sort of thinking, and Marinette knew she had to master it if she was going to remain inconspicuous.

She couldn’t simply _not _use her newfound powers, either. For as harmful as it was to have flowing through her, Master Fu explained, it was far more harmful to keep it contained where it would build up and wear her down faster. To minimize damage, she had to work with the magic’s natural ebb and flow, even if that meant letting it flow out of her at inconvenient times. So, she had to practice directing it into inconspicuous results, like giving nearby plants an extra boost of growth, or slightly healing a bruise, or creating a pebble beneath her feet.

At the end, tired and hungry, Marinette promised to practice more on her own, and returned home.

.

.

.

_I might very well die soon._

The thought turned over and over in her mind as she lay in bed that night, still with that odd sense of detachment. She wondered if she should be concerned by that. It was not that it didn’t seem real – it did, but it was real in the sense that stairs were real. It was just an object, its existence of no emotional bearing on her, even if she did trip on it often. Her impending death was just another hazard to analyze and respond to.

Unfortunately, however, she had not yet come up with a useful response to it. Sighing, she rolled over in bed and pulled out her phone, figuring she would at least check the Ladyblog to see what Alya had to say about the Fakebug situation.

**OFFICIAL RESPONSE FROM LADYBUG AND CHAT NOIR!!!** read the headline of the most recent post. Curious, Marinette tapped at the video. She was filled with ire as the sight of the thief filled the screen.

“Hello, Paris,” Fakebug began, and Marinette hated even her voice. Fakebug stood back from the camera, so that Chat Noir was visible behind her. Marinette took her gaze away from Fakebug, who was pissing her off more with every given moment, to look at Chat Noir instead. He looked unusually subdued and serious as he stood silently behind Fakebug. Marinette’s heart went out to him, wondering what excuses the thief had given him about the real Ladybug’s absence. Was he worried about her? What did he think had happened to her?

She had to find a way to contact him somehow without risking her identity. Earlier had been the perfect opportunity, if not for Bricklayer’s interruption. Unfortunately, Akuma attacks were both the most likely and most inconvenient time to talk to Chat Noir. Even without the added threat of the Akuma, Fakebug would be around much of the time – and Marinette wasn’t going to be able to warn Chat Noir while_ she _ was around. Even if Chat Noir didn’t seem to trust Fakebug, he had, much to Marinette’s frustration, accepted her. Though Marinette had to admit it _ was _ probably the must prudent course of action, given how necessary the Ladybug powers were to protecting Paris at the moment, she still wasn’t happy about it.

On screen, Fakebug continued her little speech.

“I know some of you may have concerns over the damage earlier,” she said, in an irritatingly pleasant tone that dripped disingenuously from her mouth like a sweet-smelling poison. “Unfortunately, this was a very destructive Akuma, and it was just _too_ much to repair all at once. I put _all_ my effort into “Miraculous Ladybug”, you know, and it’s so much, and this time, I just wasn’t enough. I’m so sorry for letting you all down,” she continued, a hollowly perfect note of sadness and self-reproach in her voice. “I will do everything I can to fix it next time…”

“Little lying _thief_!” Marinette seethed, throwing her phone across the room as she sat up in bed. The _nerve_ of that girl, to not only usurp her identity but to take this disaster and make it a pity-party for her, to play on the people’s sympathies with only the most superficial attempt to take responsibility for her actions and failure. _And_ to make Chat Noir go along with it, too.

Did Fakebug really think she could pretend to be the real Ladybug without anyone catching on? Unfortunately, as Marinette went to retrieve her phone and scrolled back through the Ladyblog, it seemed that she could. At the very least, Alya made no indication of suspecting that this was anything but the real Ladybug.

Marinette sighed. Chat Noir had obviously recognized the difference, and while she thought that Alya of all people would as well, she had to admit that sometimes Alya could overlook the obvious when she’d latched onto a particular conclusion. With that in mind, Marinette resolved to try to talk to Alya tomorrow, see if she couldn’t nudge her in the right direction.

With a few more calming breaths, Marinette lay back down. Now that Master Fu had made her aware of it, she could feel the hum of magic running through her, pushing against her skin and latching onto stray thoughts to carry it out into the world. She had to be careful, she knew, to balance letting the magic out and not using it unconsciously as she had before.

She breathed out, and let power flow out of her in that same breath. She felt it move from within to without, and, as Master Fu had taught her earlier, concentrated on how that felt so that she could recognize when it was happening when she didn’t intend it to.

Now independent of her, the magic swept out into her room, working its way into frayed threads and sagging pillows. When they plumped up a bit too much, Marinette sighed and reflected that she would _ really _ have to work on control.

But that, and everything else, was a problem for the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Marinette tries to talk to Alya, and skips class.


	5. Shadow of an Early Grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a day early because I have a plane to catch at 5 in the morning tomorrow.

It was the only thing people were talking about.

Speculation, debates, and a few, whispered doubts spun through the crowds of students milling about in the courtyard. Marinette kept her head down as she passed through, trying to ignore those snatches of conversation, not knowing if blame or faith would be worse to hear.

“Marinette! You’re here early. For once.”

“Hey, Alya,” Marinette said, mustering up a smile. “I know, I’m trying to work on it.”

In truth, she had tossed and turned all night, repeatedly awakening after nightmares of a laughing Fakebug standing over a devastated Paris. Marinette wasn’t yet entirely convinced that those nightmares _weren’t _a prophetic vision of the future, either. She had eventually given up on sleep entirely, and with no Tikki to tell her otherwise, spent the rest of the early morning working on design and on her magical control.

And as such, had been plenty awake enough to get to school on time.

“You’ve heard, right?” Alya continued, entirely too excited for the subject matter in question. “I mean, you can’t have missed it. I just can’t believe it! Ladybug’s never struggled like this before.”

“I know,” Marinette said, much more subdued, but determined to get Alya to think about it. “I don’t think she’s telling us everything.”

“What do you mean?” Alya said, frowning at Marinette. “Why would Ladybug lie about something like this?”

Marinette tried not to grind her teeth in frustration. Instead, she adopted a pleasant, lightly questioning tone. “Don’t you think there was something…odd about Ladybug? Something different? She just didn’t seem…”

“She’s probably just stressed and tired from the effort of trying to repair the city,” Alya said dismissively.

“But like you said, she’s never struggled like this before. And there’s been way worse damage that she’s fixed up before…”

“We don’t know that,” Alya said, a note of impatience working its way into her voice. “For whatever reason, this one could’ve been worse. We don’t know how her powers work.”

_But _I _do_, Marinette thought with just a twinge of bitterness at her friend’s…she didn’t want to say naivety, but…unconditional faith in Ladybug and now, this impostor. _And I know that it doesn’t work like that._

“But why would she tell us that, if it is true?” Marinette persisted. “After all, wouldn’t that just be telling Papillon how to beat her? It must be misdirection.”

That, at least, caught Alya’s interest.

“Hmm, perhaps,” she said, eyes gleaming. “Maybe she’s baiting Papillon into more destructive attacks. I hadn’t considered that. But for what purpose…” she trailed off, and Marinette could already guess she was going into “theorizing” mode.

“I just think we should be careful,” Marinette said, a sinking feeling in her stomach that this was a lost cause. “We don’t have the full story.”

“Marinette,” Alya said sympathetically, as she turned and put her hands on Marinette’s shoulders in a gesture of comfort. “There’s nothing to be scared of. I know Ladybug and Chat Noir will have this fixed up in no time. They’ve never let us down, and they never will.”

Marinette choked on the words in her throat.

“Now, come on. We’d better get to class if you actually want to make it on time today,” Alya teased, turning away as Marinette struggled and failed to come up with a response. With a heart heavier than ever, she trailed after her best friend, feeling helpless to warn anyone about the false Ladybug. If Alya wouldn’t even entertain the idea…

As they entered the classroom, Alya was pounced on by the other girls for her take on the situation. Marinette repressed a sigh, trying not to get discouraged that it wasn’t just Alya – _ no one _ seemed to have even an inkling that “Ladybug” wasn’t who she claimed to be.

_ Give it time _ , she thought to herself . _ She’ll slip up, or they’ll pick up on it eventually. _

Letting those positive thoughts carry her, Marinette pushed on into the classroom. As she did, she took note of the rest of the classroom. Most of the class was grouped up in the middle of the room, participating in the lively discussion regarding “Ladybug” and the failed restoration of the city.

But Nino and Adrien were at their desk, Nino having twisted sideways in his seat to face and lean in towards Adrien, frowning and speaking to him in a voice Marinette couldn’t quite hear. Adrien looked downcast, and as he shook his head and waved Nino away, Nino leaned back with a look of concern on his face. He turned back to face the front, but as Marinette approached her desk, she noticed that he kept sneaking worried glances over towards Adrien.

Marinette, too, frowned in concern as she sat down. It was none of her business, of course, but she always hated to see Adrien look sad. She hoped he wasn’t having trouble with his dad again. She bit her lip. No doubt “Ladybug”’s inability to fully protect the city would have such a…_ protective _…man like M. Agreste concerned about letting Adrien continue being out and about and going to school. Marinette could all too easily see that causing contention between the two, and once more she felt guilty over how far-reaching the consequences of her single moment of carelessness.

She was surprised, however, when Nino pulled her aside after class.

“I need your help,” he said earnestly, quietly.

“Okay,” Marinette agreed easily. “What for?”

“It’s Adrien. Something’s wrong, but he won’t tell me anything. I thought…maybe it’d help if you talked to him.”

Marinette frowned. That confirmed her earlier suspicions, and of course she’d be happy to help Adrien if she could, but… “Talking to Adrien isn’t exactly something I’m good at…”

“That’s not what I meant,” Nino said. “Even if you’re not so good at _talking_, you are good at _listening_. Everyone in the class – well, everyone except Chloé – feels like they can go to you for advice or…or reassurance. You cheer people up easily, and you’re easy to open up to. If Adrien’s going to tell anyone what’s going on, it’s you.”

Marinette blinked in surprise. She hadn’t really thought of herself like that.

“You don’t have to tell me anything that he tells you,” Nino quickly clarified. “Obviously he wants it private, and yeah I’m a little hurt that he’s not willing to talk to me about it, but right now I’m just worried about him and it’d ease my mind a bit if he just talks to _anyone_ right now.”

“Okay,” she said, holding up both hands. “Relax. I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you, Marinette,” Nino said, looking visibly relieved at her agreement.

She found Adrien sitting alone on a bench, his hands clasped around his jacket to pull it tight around him as he stared blankly ahead. Timidly, Marinette approached him.

“H…hey,” she began. “Nino told me you could use cheering up.”

“Hi, Marinette,” his voice quiet and subdued. “I…I guess I’d appreciate the company. If you want. You don’t have to.”

Marinette hesitated only a moment, then sat down next to him in silence. The words “Are you alright?” and “Do you want to talk about it?” were on the tip of her tongue, but she held them back. They didn’t _ really _ need to be said, after all, and if what Adrien wanted was simple company, than that’s what she would give.

They sat there in silence, just the two of them alone on that bench, for a long while. They should probably already be at their next class, but Marinette couldn’t find it in herself to care, despite her abysmal attendance record.

“My best friend died.”

Marinette startled when Adrien finally spoke. Then the words hit her, and she wondered at them. She had thought Nino was Adrien’s best friend. Or _ perhaps _ Chloé. But both of them were still alive, so who was he referring to?

Had they been killed in the Akuma attack yesterday…?

“We met…online,” he said, in answer to the questions she hadn’t asked, his voice shuddering on occasion with what Marinette suspected were repressed sobs. “It…they said it was a car accident. She didn’t make it. I only found out yesterday. One of her relatives…got on her account to tell me.”

“Oh,” Marinette said softly. “I’m so sorry, Adrien.”

“It shouldn’t have been like this,” he said, frustration coloring his grief. “She was always so…so…she was just an incredible person, she had so much in her to give, she _would’ve_ given it, she would’ve done so much, she would’ve _been_ so much. She should still _be_ here! It…it just isn’t the same without her, she…it’s just…how could this happen? That someone like her would be taken so…so…thoughtlessly!”

Marinette said nothing, because what could she say to that? She hoped that her presence alone was comforting, and let him rant as his frustration faded back into quiet sadness.

“It…you’ll think it’s silly, maybe, because I never…I never knew her real name or saw her face or anything, but…”

“You don’t need to know someone’s name to _know_ them,” Marinette offered gently, thinking of Chat Noir. “And it seems like she meant a lot to you.”

Adrien gave her a soft, appreciative smile, but his expression was still sad as he turned away to stare off in the distance.

“She did. I always looked forward to time spent with her, no matter…no matter the circumstances,” he said. “She was so much more clever and talented and kind and _good_ than anyone else I’ve ever met, but I don’t think she ever realized it. She was the kind of person who always made you feel like _more_, like you could be become someone who shines like she did just by following her lead, no matter who you were…I don’t think I can overstate just how amazing and inspiring she was.”

He looked up towards the ceiling, and Marinette could just barely see the traces of tears in the corner of his eye.

“And I never got to say goodbye,” he said, his voice choked up. “I wasn’t there with her in the end, and I’ll never be able to even see her grave, or attend a funeral, or…anything.”

Marinette’s heart ached for Adrien. Though she’d never met this friend, her impact on Adrien was obvious, and to lose anyone that meant that much to you…well, she knew it couldn’t be easy to deal with at all, and his inability to find closure just made it all the worse. Marinette knew there was little that she could do to help – only time could heal that kind of grief. But maybe there was _something_…

“Perhaps…you could come up with some kind of memorial of your own?” she suggested hesitantly. “Some ritual or something to honor her, and…and give you closure. I know it’s no replacement for a funeral, but it’s something you can remember her by.”

Adrien looked back down to face her, and Marinette chewed her lip nervously, hoping she hadn’t sounded insensitive. But as he appeared to consider her words, something cleared in his eyes, and they seemed brighter for it.

“I…I think I’d like that,” he said. “But I don’t know where to start. I know she wouldn’t mean anything to you, but…will you help me?”

And how could Marinette deny him anything, especially when he looked so heartbroken?

That was how she found herself sneaking Adrien into her house so that her parents wouldn’t notice they were skipping school. They crept up to her bedroom, where Marinette pulled out her various supplies. She held up a spool of white ribbon.

“What about a flower that will never wither?” she suggested. “I don’t know what your friend was like, or what would represent her, but you can keep it with you, or put it somewhere she would’ve liked, or…or…”

“Or both?” Adrien asked, voice still soft as he looked earnestly at Marinette. “One to keep, and…one to let go.”

Marinette nodded. That made sense to her. Not trusting herself to speak, she set about showing Adrien how to make the ribbon flower, gently guiding his hands through the process. In any other situation, she might’ve been overwhelmed by the close touches of their fingers, the closeness in the silence as they worked, but for now it was the furthest thing from her mind. Her only goal was to help Adrien through this.

When that first flower was completed, she sat back and let Adrien construct the next one by himself. It didn’t turn out as well as the first, but that wasn’t what mattered. As long as it gave some measure of comfort to him, it served its purpose.

Unsurprisingly, he chose the one he had made alone as the one to keep, and the one they had made together to…

“You want to send it into the sky?”

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing at his neck. “It’s just…fitting, for her. Rain or shine, she loved the sky. We both did.”

Marinette nodded, understanding the sentiment.

“Okay.”

Another quiet trip out of the house and a balloon later, Marinette and Adrien were overlooking the Seine.

Marinette held her hand out to Adrien, where the balloon was tied with a string around her wrist to avoid losing it. He gave her a small smile, and Marinette was pleased to see that it was not quite so sad any more, as he went to work, untying the string from her and carefully tying it to the flower.

Marinette took a step back to watch as Adrien ran his thumb along the false flower, before he gently released it. White balloon and white flower floated up together into the sky, and Marinette and Adrien stood and watched in silence until it was only a distant speck in their sight.

She had suggested that Adrien take that time to say the goodbye that he’d wanted, but that, he’d said, was something he felt he could only do in private.

“Besides,” he’d said. “I know she would understand.”

Eventually, he turned away as the flower vanished from sight.

“Thank you, Marinette,” he said. “This helped, it really did.”

“Of course,” she answered. “I’m glad it did.”

“I’m glad I still have you,” Adrien said, smiling once more.

“Ri…right,” Marinette stuttered out. And perhaps a few days earlier, it would’ve been because of her crush. But today, it was something entirely different that caught the words in her throat.

_I might very well die soon._

Like a switch had been flipped, the thought was suddenly terrifying and present in a way that it hadn’t been before. She was going to die. She was going to _die_, and the thought threatened to swallow her up in an emotional chasm, to drag her under the torrent of implications.

_I’m glad I still have you_, Adrien had said. But soon, all too soon, he wouldn’t, and Marinette couldn’t tell him that, couldn’t prepare him for that loss. Or anyone else.

She thought not only of Adrien, but her parents, and Alya, and all her other friends. What would happen, when she died? Would they, like Adrien had over his late friend, rage against the unfairness of the world to take someone so young? Would they be left in shock when a seemingly healthy girl just dropped dead from no physically determinable cause? Would Tikki suddenly feel her strength return and grieve, knowing what must have happened?

She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to do that to everyone she cared about. What had happened to Adrien’s friend – a life cut short, far too soon – really drove home just what was at stake. She had so little time, really, and in that moment, she grasped onto every sight, every smell, every brush of the wind against her skin, as it clashed against the fatal magic brimming underneath it. Because how much of all of this did she truly have left?

But beneath all that, beneath the fear and concern and sorrow and everything, something else had been awakened in her. It was not that she hadn’t wanted to live before, of course she had, but now it _burned_ within her, that need, that determination to live. It consumed her with all the fire she had ever possessed in her life, a focus that she had never known even in battle. It burned, deeper and stronger and fiercer than even Tikki’s ancient power ever could.

She was _not _going to die. Not like this.

She was going to get Tikki back. She was going to live.

And if she didn’t?

She’d at least make sure her last goodbye was a thing to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **NOTE: This fic will be on hiatus until November.**
> 
> I apologize for the inconvenience, but I decided that since this was a good "rest" point in the story and since I will be moving next week - a process that involves a lot of packing and three days of driving - it was probably best not to try to maintain the posting schedule for that week.
> 
> And for October, I'll be focusing on spooky-themed oneshots, so I hope you can look forward to seeing that from me. Updates for Echoes of a God will resume in early November!


	6. The Slow Toll

The pain started gradually.

At first, it was easy to ignore the increasing aches and pains. Nothing noteworthy, after all, everyone got those. Or Marinette might have thought so, had Master Fu not asked about it every time she stopped by. It was then that she realized that this was a symptom of her body breaking down under the magic flowing through it, and after that, she started keeping meticulous track of it in her daily journal.

It became increasingly more difficult to ignore over time, and as winter gave way to spring, Marinette found herself ending up at Master Fu’s more and more often for his homespun pain remedies. It helped, but it was nothing on the level of a prescription painkiller. Marinette hoped that it didn’t come to needing that, because how was she supposed to explain her condition to a doctor? As it was, she had been trying to hid her condition from everyone else as much as possible to avoid any difficult questions.

Because despite all her determination, Marinette had yet to get any closer to retrieving her earrings.

She’d tried, of course. The first few Akuma attacks, she’d thrown on a hasty disguise and attempted to wade into the thick of things, hoping to get close to Fakebug. It had turned out to be much more difficult than she had expected – she certainly didn’t know how Alya had managed it so much.

One thing she _had _had success with was a strategical analysis of Fakebug’s strengths and weaknesses. After the first few attacks, Marinette had dropped the goal of trying to get close, and instead opted for taking her sketchbook along. By now, it was filled with various sketches of Fakebug from all angles, every potential weak point and danger outlined in detail. And of course, plans. She had nearly _filled_ the sketchbook with dozens upon dozens of plans to take out Fakebug.

Unfortunately, they weren’t as easy to pull off as they were to sketch out.

For one thing, Fakebug was only out and about in two situations: Akuma attacks and publicity interviews. From what Marinette could gather, Fakebug _loved_ attention, and she rarely seemed to do anything that wouldn’t have lots of cameras on her at all times. Which was…terribly inconvenient, to say the least. There was no scenario in which attacking “Ladybug” on live camera would go well.

But to avoid the cameras, Marinette would have to take a chance during an Akuma attack – which wasn’t a good option either. For as troublesome as it was that the Ladybug Miraculous was in Fakebug’s hands, it would be far worse if Papillon got his hands on it or Chat Noir’s. Marinette just couldn’t risk it, and this realization had her (with much grinding of teeth) intervening to actually indirectly _protect_ Fakebug on multiple occasions.

Her other plans required outside assistance. And as much as she _wanted_ to contact Chat Noir to let him know what had happened and to get his help, she went back and forth on whether that was a good idea or not.

For one thing, if Fakebug caught even the slightest hint that Marinette was trying to work with Chat Noir against her, it could be very bad, for Chat Noir himself if not all of Paris. Especially with Fakebug’s limited powers, Paris simply couldn’t afford its superhero team at war with itself – they’d make it all too easy for Papillon to win.

Using a courier to contact Chat Noir to avoid direct association with him was tempting, but Master Fu was unwilling to do it, and there was pretty much no one else she could trust enough – certainly not with her identity as Ladybug, if they even _believed _her in the first place.

Because unfortunately, as far as everyone else was concerned, Fakebug _was_ Ladybug.

Marinette had hoped that Alya at least would begin to get suspicious. With every failed restoration (did they really not remember the times she had repaired _everything_?), every struggle with Lucky Charm (her tactics were entirely different!), every stilted interaction with Chat Noir (how did no one else realize that the two had “suddenly” begun holding each other at arms length?), every empty reassurance that was always more about her than the citizens of Paris (people were dying!), Marinette expected doubts to grow, suspicions to rise, and for _someone_ to figure out that Fakebug was a fraud.

But while some certainly expressed concern about Ladybug’s obviously weakened powers, still no one ever suggested that she wasn’t the real Ladybug. Instead, everyone seemed to think Papillon had somehow interfered with her Miraculous (or acquired one of the two earrings) and that she was unwilling to admit it.

As the pain grew, Marinette’s patience with her classmates grew increasingly thin. Yes, they knew _Marinette_ and not Ladybug, but had she really made such a poor impression as a superhero that they easily accepted this…this attention-seeking, irritating _impostor_?

Master Fu had explained that it was part of the Miraculous’s magic, the same part that hid their identities in the first place. But, Marinette had grumbled to herself, why couldn’t _that_ have been the part of the magic to have been weakened? That would’ve made things so much easier. As it was, she didn’t know whether to be offended or relieved that the impostor hadn’t apparently sullied her reputation much.

Of course, Marinette had more pressing concerns than her reputation. But she didn’t have to be _happy_ about it, either.

There was one positive that had come out of the past few months, and that was that Marinette had gotten much better at directing her misbegotten powers. It was all but second-nature to her now to make small, subtle repairs all around her – and with the remnants of Akuma damage all around these days, she never came up short of places to make an impact. And when she was sure she was alone and didn’t have protect her secret, sometimes she even dared to experiment further with what she could do.

If she was being honest, aside from the whole _dying_ part, Marinette really _liked _having these powers. It gave her more ways to help people, more ways to explore her creativity, more ways to just _do_ and _be_ – and, the more fun-loving part of her said, it was just really _cool_ to be able to do magic on the fly. Part of her itched to go all out, just once, to see what her limits were. But she knew she had to be cautious, and if she was careful not to spiral into a habit of more conspicuous uses of her power, knowing that the consequences could be dire if she did in someone else’s company.

So wasn’t it terribly unfortunate that the first time Marinette got close enough to Fakebug to do anything, she was surrounded by the rest of her class?

Fakebug had come onto the scene, all sickly-sweet smiles and boastful assurances as she soaked up the attention from the class. Marinette hung back, trying not to let her growing irritation show. It didn’t help that the pain was particularly distracting today – in fact, she had intended to stop by Master Fu’s over the lunch break, but this Akuma attack had thrown off that idea.

But Marinette, unfortunately, did not go unnoticed for long. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Adrien trying to slip out of the room, and before she could wonder at that, the motion caught Fakebug’s attention. As she glanced over, her eyes caught Marinette’s.

A frown flitted for a moment across the impostor’s face, before her eyes narrowed and her mouth twisted up in a sneer. With dawning horror, Marinette realized that she’d been recognized, as the sneer turned to a cruel smile. Dashing forward, Fakebug grabbed hold of Adrien’s arm, cooing reassurances at him that _she’d _keep him safe from the Akuma, there was no need to go and hide.

All the while shooting smug, glinting looks at Marinette, as if challenging her, daring her to make a move. _Come on then, little Ladybug_, her eyes seemed to say, _come save Adrien from me, if you can. Come try to take back your earrings._

Marinette glared steadily right back at her, refusing to give her the satisfaction of being either provoked or intimidated.

_You haven’t won,_ Marinette thought viciously, _someone as selfish as you, who doesn’t even care that people are suffering because you took what wasn’t yours, someone like you will never win in the end_.

All Marinette needed was the right opportunity.

But that moment wasn’t now, even as the tension between them continued to rise, to the point where her classmates started to pick up on it, with curious glances and questioning faces that resolved into (mistaken) understanding as they saw Adrien in Fakebug’s grip. Marinette gritted her teeth. Of course they would assume it was all down to him, they always did – ignoring, of course, how uncomfortable he looked as he politely tried to pull free. No, somehow his feelings on the matter were irrelevant, only Marinette’s, and how easily her concerns were dismissed as mere petty jealousy.

She was _definitely_ in a foul mood now, but still she refused to give Fakebug the response she was looking for. Marinette took deep breaths, reminding herself that it wasn’t like her friends _knew_ that the “Ladybug” in front of them was a fake and the reason she was literally _dying_, or even that she was dying at all. Of course Marinette’s reaction wouldn’t make sense to them.

Still, it hurt that everyone always seemed to take the least charitable assumption of her feelings.

Marinette managed to hold her cool until after the Akuma attack had passed and Fakebug had flown off on her way. She even managed to keep (just barely) her patience as her friends began pestering her.

“What was _that_ all about, Marinette?”

“It’s nothing,” Marinette insisted. “Just having a bad day, is all. I’m fine.”

Some were satisfied by that. Alya still seemed to think it was on account of Adrien, and Marinette struggled to maintain her composure as Alya bent down to whisper out of Adrien’s hearing:

“You’ve got to chill, it’s not like anything real can happen with a superhero anyway. Adrien’s not going anywhere.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Rose asked, not having heard Alya’s whispers.

“I’m fine, Rose, I promise,” Marinette said, and repeated similar statements several more times as the others crowded around.

And it might have ended there, Marinette might have remained composed until she got home, had not the strain and the aching in her hands and her usual clumsiness conspired to cause her drop her sketchbook on the ground. And most unfortunately, as it fell, it opened to reveal some of her sketches of Fakebug’s weaknesses.

Marinette froze, hardly daring to breathe as panic threatened to claim her.

“Marinette…” Alya said slowly as she bent down to pick up the fallen sketchbook for a closer look. “What is this?”

There were gasps from several of her other classmates as they took in the sketch. Alya began flipping through, eyes widening as she saw several more pages of similar threat analyses.

“Why…?” Alya started to ask, and Marinette recovered her nerve enough to snatch the sketchbook back.

“That’s private. My designs,” she managed to stammer out, trying rapidly to think of some excuse.

But it was far too late for that, as Alya’s expression changed from shocked confusion to one of anger.

“I know you’ve had your doubts about Ladybug before, but this is going too far, Marinette. Why do you have such a grudge against her?”

It was too much. Aching and tired and frustrated and hurt, Marinette’s composure completely shattered.

“She’s not the real Ladybug! She hasn’t been for months! I don’t know why you all can’t see that!” she shouted, clutching the sketchbook tight against her chest as her classmates reared back in shock.

“What are you saying?” Mylène asked.

“She’s a fake! An impostor! Everything about her is all wrong, and she can’t even fix the city!”

The bewildered faces of her classmates should’ve made her only more frustrated, but instead, an empty despair settled into her bones. They were only going to think she was insane.

“Marinette…” Nino said sympathetically, his face suddenly clearing. “You were injured in an attack, weren’t you?”

“Come to think of it,” Alix said, “you’ve been acting weird lately. Like you’re in pain, sometimes.”

Marinette glanced back and forth between her friends as they all began murmuring in agreement, her own panic rising.

“Oh, Marinette,” Alya said, anger vanished from her voice as it was replaced by sympathy. “I didn’t realize! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You should’ve said something!” Rose said. “We could’ve helped.”

“When did it happen?”

“Which Akuma?”

“How bad is it?”

“What can we do?”

“Stop!” Marinette said. “Please, just drop it. It’s not a big deal.” At least it was a decent cover for her pain, but she didn’t want to think up some more excuses or lies to make it plausible to her friends.

“No, we’re not going to drop it,” Alya said, firmly. “We want to help you, but it’s not Ladybug’s fault, you know. She’s only ever tried to make things right and just because it didn’t quite work for you, doesn’t mean you should blame her for it. It’s Papillon’s fault, and his fault only. I thought you knew better, Marinette!”

At that, Marinette’s last hope of getting through to her friends was vaporized. They didn’t understand, she despaired. They couldn’t understand. She couldn’t explain it to them. And they were always going to stand by the impostor Ladybug instead of her.

It took everything Marinette had to keep the tears at bay as she turned and fled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Marinette gains an ally, and skips class. Again.


	7. A Partner in Crime

Marinette hunched up on the bench, her knees meeting her forehead as she willed herself to calm down. It wasn’t that bad, she told herself. Her friends wanted to help her, even if they didn’t – couldn’t – understand her resentment. And it wasn’t their fault that magic made it difficult to tell that “Ladybug” had changed. It was natural that they would want to hold onto their faith in Ladybug even as the city was coming apart around them.

But was a little faith in _Marinette_ too much to ask for?

She closed her eyes, still leaning her head against her knees as she breathed in deeply and let out a little magic to fix whatever wear and tear was around. She didn’t know what to do now. Oh, she could still keep planning, of course – she’d just have to take extra precautions to keep those plans from falling into her friends’ hands, in case they were looking for them. She didn’t _think_ they’d expose her resentment directly to Fakebug, but even if they did, it wasn’t like Fakebug wouldn’t have realized that already.

No, most likely they’d just pester her about how she was feeling and what had happened and how she should have more faith in “Ladybug” and Chat Noir and all that. And despite her best efforts, Marinette knew that would only end in more irritated outbursts, or even worse, akumatization. She had to think of some way to get them to drop the subject entirely.

She thought of going to ask Master Fu, but anxiety kept her in place. She didn’t dare to potentially lead the thief to more Miraculouses.

Because even all her frustration with her friends hadn’t made her forget that now Fakebug knew who she was and where she went to school. And if that challenging look in her eyes was anything to go by, she very well expected and even _wanted_ Marinette to make a move. Marinette couldn’t take the risk that Fakebug, whoever she was as a civilian, might start following Marinette to gauge her plans.

For now, Marinette was on her own.

Almost as if in answer to that very thought, Marinette heard footsteps cautiously approaching. She didn’t move – what was the point? If it was someone looking for her, they already knew she was upset. And either way, hopefully they would leave her alone once they’d determined she wasn’t about to be akumatized.

However, her visitor didn’t do that. Instead, Marinette felt the bench give just slightly as they sat down next to her in silence. Part of her was tempted to look up to see who had come for her, but another part of her would rather put off further conversation as much as possible.

She was surprised, however, when her visitor spoke.

“I believe you, you know. About Ladybug being different.”

She looked up in hopeful disbelief.

“Really?”

Adrien nodded, and rubbed at his neck sheepishly. “Yeah. I’ve…thought so for a while, but I thought I was the only one who noticed. So I never said anything…”

Relief swelled in Marinette. She wasn’t alone. She wasn’t _alone_! Adrien believed her, had even recognized the difference. It was almost a giddy sort of vindication that spread through her at that realization. For _Adrien_ out of everyone to realize that something wasn’t right about Ladybug, and to have enough trust in Marinette to believe that she might have a good reason behind her actions…it was just another reason for her to love him.

Apparently emboldened by Marinette cheering up, Adrien continued.

“I want to help,” he said, his face determined. “Whatever you’re planning, I want in.”

“Are you sure?” Marinette asked. “You don’t even know what I’m after. I was just sketching Ladybug.”

“I don’t know,” Adrien admitted. “But I can guess. You want to do something about the fake Ladybug. And either way…you’ve always helped me out when I needed it, so it’s time I returned the favor.”

Marinette thought back to months ago, when they’d both sat on this very bench as she’d comforted him. He’d never quite gone back to the way he’d been before that day, but, Marinette believed, he’d found some measure of healing. In no small part to the ribbon flower she’d taught him to make, by his own admission. He still carried it with him, she knew.

So she could certainly believe Adrien when he said he wanted to help her in turn. It was enough to quiet that irrational paranoia that he was only here to expose her true intentions to the rest of the class and to Fakebug herself. It was enough for Marinette to look him in the eyes for a long moment, and take the chance to trust him with this.

“Okay,” she said, before looking around. “But not here. We should go to my house, or something. Somewhere where we won’t be overheard.”

Adrien agreed.

“I’m afraid I’m a terrible influence on you,” he joked quietly as they once again crept up to her room. “This is the second time I’ve gotten you to skip school on my account.”

Marinette couldn’t help the small smile that flitted to her face, grateful for Adrien continuing to try to cheer her up even beyond offering to help her out with this.

“I wasn’t going to go back to class anyway,” she said, lightly, although it wasn’t a joke. She pushed open the trapdoor to her room, and gestured at him to follow. “Um…make yourself at home, I guess.”

He climbed up behind her, quickly settling in even as Marinette felt her nerves returning. Was she really going to do this? She trusted Adrien, of course, but this…this went beyond trust. This was secret, this was _dangerous_, even without telling him everything (which she wouldn’t, _couldn’t_). Being resentful of the local “superhero” was one thing, but the extent of the plans Marinette had made…it was certainly a crime, if not even some sort of outright treason. If things went wrong, she and any co-conspirators could be in a _lot_ of trouble. And while she wouldn’t live long enough to face the worst of the consequences, Adrien would take the fall, and…

Oh, she was catastrophizing again.

_Deep breaths_, she thought. _Just like Master Fu taught me_.

Taking Fakebug down was going to require risks, and Marinette had to determine whether this was a risk worth taking. She stopped in front of her computer and turned around to face Adrien.

“Are you _sure _you want to do this?” she asked. “You don’t have to, you know, I understand if you want to back out, because I’m pretty sure all of this is illegal and I don’t want you to get arrested or anything like that, I mean this could ruin our lives or get us killed, and I…”

“Marinette. I’m sure,” Adrien said, cutting off her rambling. “It’s not just for us, but for the sake of Paris, right?”

“Right,” Marinette said, feeling somewhat reassured. She took another deep breath. This had to be done. She’d tell him her plans, and if he wanted to back out then…that was fine. Things would be fine. Having a partner would greatly help her chances, and if they pulled this off…everything would be fine.

She turned back to the computer screen, and loaded up her current project, then turned back to Adrien.

“Okay,” she began, “the current plan – and I’ll probably have to modify it, now that, I mean, if that you’re helping. Not that that’s a bad thing, of course! I just mean, having extra help, things can be done differently, and…nevermind. Anyway. The plan. Yes, so, I’ve been pulling voice samples of Chat Noir from the Ladyblog, and running it through this software thing so I can fabricate a convincing recording of Chat Noir claiming to have found a lead on Papillon and to meet up with him. I’m still working on how to spoof his staff phone thing to leave a voicemail for the impostor Ladybug, but once that happens, I’ll send the recording through. At the meeting location, we’ll prepare a trap, where I will…”

Marinette trailed off, realizing that Adrien looked more than a little lost. Oops. Perhaps she had gotten a little too carried away. She needed to slow down and work through it step by step with him if he was going to be able to help. “Er…do you have any questions, so far?” she asked, shifting awkwardly. She picked at a thread fraying on her shirt, and subtly pushed her purse in front to hide it from view as a little magic sparked into it. It fixed up instantly.

“Um…” Adrien said hesitantly. “Why not just ask Chat Noir for help? I mean, he…he must know that it’s not the real Ladybug, right?”

“Well, yes, he would know,” Marinette said. “But I can’t just go up to him! Fakebug knows that I know that she’s not the real Ladybug, if she saw me talking to Chat Noir, she would turn on him in an instant. And Paris _really_ can’t afford that right now!”

“_Fakebug_, huh? That’s a good nickname,” Adrien said. “What if…I talked to him for you? I _promise_ I can do it without Fakebug seeing me.”

Marinette considered the offer. Adrien seemed pretty well convinced he could discreetly contact Chat Noir, and hadn’t Marinette considered using a courier before? She had discarded the idea because there wasn’t anyone she could entrust her identity to.

But this way, she wouldn’t _have _to. She’d been focused on the idea of contacting him as Ladybug, and she hadn’t considered acting as Marinette. After all, what reason would _Marinette_ have to want to take down Fakebug? As far as anyone unaware of her identity was concerned, her motives would be suspicious. But her intentions had been exposed now anyway, and her classmates had inadvertently given her the perfect excuse. If she pretended that her slowly worsening pain was the result of an Akuma, then no one would be the wiser as to her true reasons.

And if Adrien could also recognize the difference in “Ladybug”, then it was less suspicious that Marinette could, as well. Yes…this might work. And she couldn’t deny that having Chat Noir at her side for this would make her much more optimistic about her chances.

There was just one problem.

“Can we be sure that he’ll even _want_ to help?” Marinette asked. Certainly, if he knew the truth of what Fakebug had done, he would. But Marinette couldn’t reveal that part, so as far as anyone knew, “I’m just some random civilian with a chip on her shoulder. Even though he knows it’s not the same Ladybug, he’s still working with her – and don’t get me wrong, he _should_, for the sake of protecting Paris. He probably won’t want to risk disrupting that as long as Papillon is out there.”

“Maybe he’s only working with her because he didn’t think he had another choice,” Adrien argued. “Maybe by the time he realized things weren’t adding up, he thought it was too late to change things. Maybe he just needs a plan, an opportunity. _You’ve _got that plan. _You_ can give him that opportunity.”

Marinette still hesitated, even in the face of Adrien’s earnest insistence.

“Marinette,” he pleaded. “Just let me ask him. If he refuses, I won’t let anything slip that’ll tie this to you, I promise.”

“Alright,” Marinette agreed. “You can ask him. But you haven’t even heard the rest of the plan so that _you_ can agree in the first place,” she pointed out.

“Okay, what’s the rest of the plan, then?” he asked. “Uh…a bit slower this time, please.”

Marinette giggled a bit sheepishly, before pulling herself back into serious business mode.

“Alright, so the plan _was_ to set a trap for Fakebug at the meeting place. If Chat Noir’s involved, I’ll have to revise the specifics – I’ll admit he’ll make things _much_ easier – but basically we try to get her to use Lucky Charm, then take the Charm and use it against her and prevent her from escaping until her timer runs down.”

“Easier said than done,” Adrien pointed out, with a rueful smile. “Papillon’s minions have been trying that for ages.”

“True,” Marinette said. “We’ll also be at the mercy of the timing. I’m not trying to make things any easier for Papillon – the last thing I want is to be compromising the Ladybug Miraculous further in the middle of an Akuma attack. That’ll be tricky to avoid.”

“If she’s being attacked on two fronts, it’ll make it easier to defeat her,” he said.

“For Papillon as well as us,” Marinette said pointedly. “As bad as it’s been under Fakebug, it’ll be worse if Papillon has the Miraculous. I’m not taking that risk.”

Adrien frowned. “Yeah, that would be bad. Okay, so say we get the Miraculous away from her, what then?”

“Then, I’ll get the earrings back to the _real_ Ladybug as soon as possible,” Marinette said firmly.

“How?” Adrien asked, and there was something almost like desperation in his voice. “No one knows who Ladybug is…was. We don’t even know if she’s still alive.”

“I’m sure she’s still alive,” Marinette said confidently. _For now_.

Adrien stared at her with a strange expression on his face. Marinette shifted under his gaze, trying to keep her face blank. They were too close to her secrets, and…

“Marinette,” he said slowly. “Do you…do you _know_ Ladybug? You know who she is?” His voice was almost hoarse.

“I…you know I can’t answer a question like that, Adrien,” she said, averting her eyes as she winced at that being essentially a confirmation in and of itself. It wasn’t the _worst_ conclusion he could have come to, but it was still pretty dangerous.

“She’s alive,” he said softly, almost to himself. “She’s actually…she put you up to this in the first place, didn’t she?” he said, his head snapping up.

Marinette sighed. Might as well roll with this. “Yes. She’s…not in any condition to do this herself. And, because I was the only one she could confide in, I…well, you know,” she said, shifting uncomfortably as she tried to spin a believable half-truth. “You can’t tell anyone about this.”

Adrien nodded, his eyes sharp and almost…angry? “Fakebug hurt her, didn’t she?”

“Don’t tell Chat Noir that,” Marinette pleaded. “We need him on his game, and if he lets his feelings get the better of him…”

“I understand.”

“She’ll be fine once she gets the earrings back,” Marinette said. _I hope, anyway._

Adrien nodded again. “Then we’ll get them back.”

“So,” Marinette said, sticking her hand out. She felt she already knew the answer, but she had to ask. “You’re still on board?”

Adrien stood and crossed over to her outstretched hand. Marinette barely even blushed as he clasped it and shook.

“Absolutely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: The plan is put into action.


	8. Confrontation

“Nervous?” Adrien’s voice crackled over the video call.

“Nervous? Me? Never. Why would I be nervous?” Marinette rambled. “Nothing to be nervous about. I’m only about to assault a superhero, that’s all. Sure, it’s really dangerous, definitely illegal, and my backup isn’t here yet, but no, I’m not nervous at all.”

Sarcasm was a good coping mechanism. At least that’s what Marinette told herself.

It was good that they were moving quickly, Marinette could admit that. In fact, it had been her idea to put the plan into motion the Sunday after Adrien had somehow managed to get Chat Noir’s agreement. Marinette hadn’t spoken with Chat Noir herself yet (for safety reasons), but she trusted that Adrien had accurately relayed the plan to him. And Marinette had pushed forward, knowing that as soon as Chat Noir was aware of, and agreed to the plan that it would strain the working relationship between him and Fakebug – again, something that Paris couldn’t afford. Best to strike as soon as possible, to minimize the Akuma attacks where Fakebug might catch on that something was up. Not to mention, Marinette had no idea how long she had left, herself.

Still, that didn’t mean that the pace didn’t also alarm Marinette, too. She knew her plan inside and out, but if she failed, Chat Noir and Adrien would be caught in the fallout. Well, perhaps Adrien would avoid it – she’d breathed a sigh of relief when he had regretfully informed her that he wouldn’t be able to be on-site for the attack.

“If I skipped out on a photoshoot while my father was out of town, I’d be in huge trouble,” he’d said.

But even knowing that Adrien would be safely away from danger did little to soothe her nerves now. So much could go wrong, and if it did it would be all her fault, and…

“Everything will be fine, Marinette,” Adrien said. “Ladybug and Chat Noir both believe in you to do this.”

“So no pressure, right?” Marinette said dryly.

“They know what they’re doing,” he said reassuringly. “And _I _know that they made a good choice with you.”

Marinette wished she could share his confidence. She could see where he was coming from, of course – but her perception of the situation was much different than his. Considering that she’d led him to believe that Ladybug had specifically _asked_ her to do this, when of course that was only true by virtue of Marinette _being_ Ladybug, she didn’t quite put the same weight on being vouched for in that way.

“There hasn’t been an Akuma attack in a few days,” she said instead. “It’s been too long; we could have an incident at any moment. There’s too much risk…”

“It’ll always be risky,” Adrien said firmly. “It has nothing to do with how much time has passed since the last attack. There have been some attacks only a few minutes after the previous supervillain was defeated, after all.”

Marinette knew better than anyone that he was right, but it did little to soothe her worries or her nagging feeling that _something_ was going to go wrong. It was probably just irrational anxiety, but she couldn’t help it.

“If it would help,” Adrien suggested cheekily, “you could ask Alya or Max for the exact statistical likelihood of an Akuma attack happening in the next hour. I bet it’s lower than you’d expect.”

“I’ll pass, thanks,” Marinette said. She wasn’t exactly _not_ speaking with her classmates at the moment, but she wasn’t eager to talk with them lately either. She had been able to convince them to give her some space, and told Alya that she was “working on it” whenever Alya brought up Marinette’s resentment against “Ladybug” - something Adrien apparently found greatly amusing on account of it being the truth, just not in the way Alya was expecting. He, too, had been helpful in getting the classmates off her back, which was kind of surprising given how poorly he was able to enforce his own boundaries.

But that was a concern for another time.

“I never did ask…” Adrien began hesitantly. “I know it’s none of my business, but…how bad is it?”

“How bad is what?” Marinette asked, distracted from her thoughts for the moment.

“Your injury. You never said which Akuma it was, or anything about it at all, really. I know the others were dismissive about your observations about Fakebug, but Alix was right when she said you’ve seemed like you’ve been in pain. I’ve noticed it a lot when we’ve been planning this week.”

_Oops_. She thought she’d hid it better than that. But she supposed it wasn’t as important to hide any more now that it was her ostensible reason for disliking “Ladybug”. On the other hand…she didn’t know what supervillain to blame it on, since it wasn’t actually caused by one.

“It’ll be fixed when we get Ladybug back her earrings,” she said, opting for that truthful non-answer instead. “It won’t interfere with the plan.”

Or at least, she hoped it wouldn’t. She’d been too wary of heading to Master Fu’s to pick up any pain relievers from him, so she was a little worse for wear. But she could manage through some aching to do what needed to be done.

Adrien nodded, his eyes softening as he accepted her answer, and Marinette was grateful that he knew when not to push. She _really_ didn’t want to come up with some lie about it.

“I need to go,” he said. “I’m sure Chat Noir will join you soon, so don’t psyche yourself out too much.”

Marinette nodded, swallowing tightly. It was better that Adrien wasn’t directly involved, she knew that.

Still, she knew she would be missing his voice and his comfort in only a few moments. She’d wished he could’ve waited to hang up until after Chat Noir showed up so she wouldn’t be waiting alone. But Marinette had her duties, and Adrien had his.

“Good luck, Marinette,” he said.

“See you later,” she returned, hoping that “later” wouldn’t be on the other side of a prison cell. And with that, the phone call ended and the screen went dark, leaving Marinette alone with her anxiety.

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before Chat Noir showed up. He leapt lightly onto the roof across from her, and stopped, raising one clawed hand up to shield his eyes as he scanned the area. Marinette stepped forward out of the shadows just slightly and waited until she caught his gaze.

He stilled as he caught her eyes, then gave a small salute in greeting. Marinette returned the greeting with a nod of her head, then stepped back into the shadows. She bent down and scooped up the motorcycle helmet she had brought, pushing it snugly over her head as she did.

She had opted for the helmet for both protection and disguise. It would limit her vision somewhat, but that was an acceptable tradeoff. She had also opted for a dark biking suit instead of her usual style of clothing to further avoid recognition. Her purse had been left at home; her phone tucked into an unsigned bag she had sewn just for the occasion. And for the final touch…

Magic flowed out of her, and Marinette concentrated, willing that magic to take shape around her fingers. Under her gentle direction, it pulsed and settled into the form of two thin gloves clinging tightly to her skin. She brushed the side of the building, testing their strength and friction. Once she was satisfied with their effectiveness, she settled into position, and waited as she intently watched Chat Noir pace on the rooftop across the way.

The minutes stretched on, but now that Chat Noir was here, Marinette found herself calming. Not relaxing – she was very much alert and ready to strike – but she felt more settled and confident. At this point, her only worry was that Fakebug wouldn’t show up at all. But once she showed up…then they could handle this. The two of them, a team once again. It had been far too long, and Marinette felt a sense of premature relief. She hadn’t won yet, but she could see the light at the end of the tunnel now.

Finally, Fakebug made her appearance, landing lightly in front of Chat Noir. Despite the distance, Marinette could hear their conversation perfectly.

“So, what’s the ‘important issue’ we have to discuss?” Fakebug said with her characteristic false sweetness, moving in far too close to Chat Noir. “Did you find Papillon? Or is this something between us…?” she trailed off, implication strong in her tone. Marinette scowled. So that was how she was going to operate, was it?

Chat Noir, to his credit, didn’t respond to her suggestiveness. Instead, he took a step back.

“It is about you,” he said impassively. “We need to talk about the Miraculous Cure.”

“That again?” Fakebug said, with an annoyed huff. “That’s hardly worth calling me out on a weekend to talk about. I’m still working on getting the powers right.”

“And while you’re ‘getting it right’, people are suffering,” Chat Noir said, a touch too sharply. “Please,” he continued, his voice softening, “if the Miraculous isn’t working for you, maybe it’s best if someone else took over.”

That was an important part of the plan. Marinette doubted that Fakebug would just hand the earrings over if asked, but they had to try. If she could be made to see what her selfishness was doing to so many people, if she could be persuaded to change her ways, then it would make things so much easier and avoid a fight.

But Fakebug didn’t seem too keen on cooperating, as she let off a gasp.

“You can’t be serious!” she said, voice wobbling in a perfect approximation of someone on the verge of tears. Marinette was certain it was as fake as everything else. “I’m doing everything I can! If you brought in someone new now, they’d have to start from scratch – they don’t know the things I know, they don’t know how to work with you like I do, they wouldn’t…and you know that Ladybug _asked _me to take over, it was her _dying wish_…”

_Like _ hell _ it was_, Marinette growled silently.

“Ladybug would want to see Paris safe above anything else,” Chat Noir said firmly, unmoved. “She couldn’t have known that it would fare so poorly when she asked you. But it’s been months and nothing has gotten better. You’ve done what you can, and I’m sorry it came to this, but things can’t continue the way they have. Too many people are getting hurt.”

“So please,” he said, so softly that Marinette could barely hear him as he extended his hand, palm cupped upwards, “give me your Miraculous so I can find someone else.”

Fakebug tensed, dropping all pretenses of sweetness or vulnerability. “And if I refuse?” she said, her voice harsh and far more real than Marinette had heard it yet.

“Then I’ll gladly do what I have to,” Chat Noir said, his voice still low as he dropped his pretenses as well. Marinette was a little surprised – Chat Noir _had_ been working with Fakebug well enough for the past couple of months, so she expected him to try to plead with her a bit longer. She certainly didn’t expect this…almost fervent eagerness to fight Fakebug.

_Oh, I hope Adrien didn’t let slip that bit about Fakebug hurting Ladybug_ , Marinette thought, wincing as the idea occurred to her. Because _that _might become a problem if Chat Noir was letting that drive his actions…

She couldn’t afford to panic about that possibility right now, though. She had to focus, because if things went according to plan, she would need to be moving very soon.

Fakebug struck first. Rather than attempting to flee, she charged at Chat Noir, shoving him back. He recovered quickly, twisting around her continued attack as he caught her arm and yanked her off balance. They grabbed and shoved and kicked at one another, completely foregoing their weapons in favor of a more direct fight, dancing and dodging around each other in, for the moment, a stalemate.

Marinette continued to watch intently, tracking their movements like a predator hunting its prey, ignoring the impulse to intervene. She held still, except to shift her weight to stave off the stiffness that her aching body often brought these days. She had to be ready when the fight came to her. And soon enough, it did, as Chat Noir gained an upper hand, sending Fakebug flying…right into Marinette’s trap.

Marinette moved, unusually careful of her quick steps as she hurried towards where Fakebug had landed. She stopped just short, not wanting to fall into the trap herself.

Fakebug, however, was not so fortunate, slipping about as she struggled to right herself. That she was absolutely furious was evident, and her fury hindered her attempt to get up even further. Marinette enjoyed a moment of smug satisfaction, watching as Fakebug managed to only get herself more and more into a mess. It was only a matter of time before the fake thought to use her Lucky Charm, and then Marinette could strike.

Marinette did feel a bit bad about making such a mess on the narrow street, but she reasoned that she could always clean it up later, after she had gotten her earrings back. It was worth it, and since it was her responsibility to dispose of the bakery’s used cooking oil in the first place, it had been no trouble to…_divert_ it for this ploy.

Fakebug managed to stand up, not even noticing Marinette as her eyes blazed in Chat Noir’s direction, oil dripping from her hair and limbs and body.

_Good_, Marinette thought with satisfaction. Fakebug’s rage would make her tactics sloppy, making it harder for her to use Lucky Charm effectively, and easier for Marinette and Chat Noir to defeat her.

And, of course, Marinette took no small pleasure in the simple, petty revenge of annoying this girl who’d taken so much from her.

_Now_, she thought. _Just use Lucky Charm so we can finish this._

And Fakebug looked quite prepared to do just that, if Chat Noir hadn’t rushed in at that moment.

Marinette had hardly let out a startled “No!” before he came crashing down, staff held out straight at Fakebug, who snarled as she slid away from the blow. Quick on the uptake, Chat Noir twisted himself and the staff in midair, extending it to support his weight between the two buildings so that he didn’t land in the oil trap himself. But even as he avoided it, Fakebug took advantage of the situation, grabbing the staff and flipping herself over Chat Noir despite her slippery grip.

Marinette launched herself forward, ignoring the complaints from her joints and muscles as she tried to block Fakebug’s escape. But she was too slow, and Fakebug took off down the streets. Marinette pursued, but was quickly overtaken by Chat Noir, staff now on his back once again as he jumped after their target – too focused on the chase to even give Marinette a lift.

Marinette’s heart sank even as her legs moved faster as she realized that Fakebug was headed into a more populated area. Even if they did manage to catch up with her, witnesses were going to be a problem. At _best_ , they would assume one of the heroes had been akumatized and panic. At _worst_ …well, Fakebug didn’t seem terribly concerned with collateral damage to civilians in the first place, if her attitude about her failing powers said anything. There was always the chance that she might go as far as to use them as _hostages_…

Marinette had to get people out of the way. Even if it cost her her chance…

She sped forward, running towards the groups of people who had stopped to gawk and take pictures as Fakebug flew overhead with Chat Noir in hot pursuit.

“Akuma!” Marinette shouted at the crowds, pushing her way through them as she ignored their protests. “There’s an Akuma, find shelter!”

She considered, briefly, if she should claim that “Ladybug” had been akumatized, to justify Chat Noir’s actions to the public. But the lie already sat heavily in her heart, and she couldn’t bring herself to cause any more unnecessary panic.

“Please, everyone, move!” Marinette tried again, as Chat Noir tackled Fakebug to the ground. Some listened, fleeing the scene altogether. Others shrank into the background as much as possible without actually leaving. And still others gathered around the warring heroes with that reckless, insufferable curiosity. Marinette shoved through them, just in time to see Fakebug escape Chat Noir’s grasp again, as they both took off.

Marinette let out a noise of frustration. She couldn’t just keep chasing after them like this. Ignoring all the whispers and speculation behind her about the situation, Marinette closed her eyes, reflecting on everything she knew about Fakebug – where would she go?

She’d probably try to lose Chat Noir so that she could safely detransform. Either that, or aim for more cameras – but no, even this much was probably enough. Now, her goal was likely escape.

With that in mind, Marinette took off again.

Catching up, thankfully, was not as difficult as she had feared, since Chat Noir did an admirable job of slowing down Fakebug’s progress, even if he couldn’t quite keep ahold of her. She found them again on a deserted street, and as she ran towards them, she saw Fakebug struggle against Chat Noir’s attacks, and finally, _finally_ call for Lucky Charm. Marinette, however, had not quite reached them, and only hoped that Chat Noir would be able to hold Fakebug back for just a few moments longer…

It was like something out of a nightmare. Time seemed too slow, her footfalls against the pavement too slow, the distance too far to reach them, to stop the disaster unfolding in front of her. She could do nothing as Chat Noir reached for whatever object Fakebug had summoned, destructive magic as dark as the void dancing at his fingertips. She could do nothing as Fakebug twisted around, grabbing Chat Noir’s outstretched arm, and shoved that terrible, merciless power directly over his own heart.

“CHAT NOIR!” Marinette screamed as he collapsed onto his knees, doubled over with his hand still on his chest. She all but flew forward, rushing into Fakebug only moments too late, knocking the latter off balance. Marinette followed that up by flipping Fakebug to the ground, only for the latter to throw the yo-yo to the sky, escaping Marinette’s next strike and disappearing into the skyline.

Neither Marinette nor Chat Noir gave pursuit this time.

His breathing was labored, and Marinette put her hands on his shoulders to steady him.

“We need to move,” she said, pushing aside her panic as much as she could for the moment. “If Fakebug comes back, or directs police here, or something.”

Weakly, Chat Noir nodded. Marinette helped him to his feet, trying not to be concerned with how much she had to support him, or alarmed by the periodic countdown beeps of his ring. She didn’t know exactly what his own Cataclysm would do to him, but given how he was faring and how widely his power had ranged in the past…well, it wasn’t good.

She forced their way into an abandoned building, and practically carried Chat Noir in, finding a wall to lean him against as she set him down to the floor. She quickly turned and shut the door behind them, then removed her helmet.

Light filtered through dirty windows, but Marinette was confident they were hidden from view.

“I’m sorry,” Chat Noir managed in a quiet voice. “I got carried away, and…I failed.”

Marinette closed her eyes briefly, and reopened them. He wasn’t _wrong_, but this wasn’t the time for that.

“And I underestimated her,” Marinette said. “But right now we have to fix you up.”

Chat Noir made a noise that might’ve resembled a laugh had he not been so grievously injured. His ring beeped. On the next, he would detransform.

“I don’t think…there’s any need for that,” he said, his breathing still far too shallow. “I think…it’s pretty bad…I think the only thing…keeping me alive right now…is this suit.”

“Don’t say that,” Marinette snapped. It wasn’t true. She wouldn’t _let_ it be true. She was _not_ letting Chat Noir get killed because of her. Not again, and especially not when she had no Miraculous to do anything about it. She started pacing around. “We’ll fix you up, we’ll take you to the hospital, something…”

“Marinette…” he said softly. “Please…Paris still needs Chat Noir…”

“You’re damn right it does. That’s why you’re going to live.” She tore off her gloves and threw them across the room, just to direct her upset into something, _anything_ else.

“When I’m gone. Take the ring…please. You…you’d be a good superhero…”

She stopped pacing, whirling back to him. “This isn’t happening,” she said.

He only gave her a small, sad smile. One that she hadn’t ever seen on Chat Noir’s face, but was uncomfortably familiar all the same.

“You’ll have to tell Nino and Alya and the others. I’m sorry, Marinette.”

She lurched down at him, gripping his shoulders as tightly as she possibly could. And she reached inside herself, feeling that terrible, deadly power of her own that constantly threatened to spill out, that pushed and yearned and struggled against the mortal conduit it was trapped in. She had learned to let that power flow out in barely perceptible trickles and small, inconspicuous pools. She had never dared to seek her limits, never let it out beyond the smallest things.

But in this moment, she broke the entire dam down, and threw herself into the flood, releasing every scrap of power she could muster, directing it as much as it directed her.

The final beep sounded from the Miraculous ring.

And as the shimmering, bright green magic peeled away from the dying Chat Noir, her own glistening red swirled in a mælstrom between them, drowning them in its currents. And as the astonished eyes of Adrien Agreste met her own, Marinette anchored herself in the storm.

And _healed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to slow the updates a bit. I'm getting burned out with posting twice a week, so next chapter will be up next Saturday instead of Wednesday. I apologize for the inconvenience - I'm not very good at keeping to a posting schedule.


	9. Revelations

Marinette staggered back, breathing heavily from the surge of power she’d just let loose. The last of that magic settled into Adrien’s skin in red sparks, as he stared wide-eyed back at her. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his, even as she internally berated herself. She should’ve closed her eyes, she shouldn’t know his identity, she should’ve been more careful…

But nothing could change what had happened, and Marinette…she’d saved him. She’d saved his life, restored every bit of damage that’d been done to him. She had done that.

Marinette continued staring at him, hardly daring to believe it, even as it made perfect sense. Both his identity – of course his eagerness to help her made sense now – and the extent of her powers. She’d known, of course, what this magic was, she knew it was powerful, too powerful – but she hadn’t truly considered what that made her capable of. She’d been holding the power back, most of the time, only making small impacts here and there. But if she could bring back someone from the edge of death, save him from that also incredibly powerful magic of destruction – just what were her limits?

Adrien spoke first.

“…It’s _you_, isn’t it?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hadn’t dared to hope…”

Marinette, still shaken from everything that happened, couldn’t find it in herself to deny it. She doubted it would’ve done much good, anyway.

“It’s me,” she confirmed.

Adrien exhaled with a shuddering breath. With trembling fingers, he reached into his jacket and pulled out the ribbon flower that he’d made so long ago.

“I guess I never needed this, did I? You…you were right there, the whole time, helping me…”

Oh. Of course. His _online friend_. Suddenly, a lot of things were making a lot more sense.

Well, at least she’d been invited to her own funeral. That was nice, she supposed.

“You might want to keep it,” an unfamiliar voice said, and Marinette jumped. Adrien, however, frowned, turning towards the voice, and Marinette settled as she realized it must be his kwami.

“What are you talking about, Plagg?” Adrien said.

“She’s not exactly supposed to be able to do that fancy healing trick she just pulled, you know,” Plagg said. “Not without Tikki, anyway.”

“Without…?”

“Tikki. My kwami,” Marinette said. “Or…she was.” She felt a cool sense of dread in her stomach. Plagg had obviously figured out what was going on with her right now, and they…they were going to have to tell Adrien, weren’t they? Her mouth felt dry at the prospect of explaining her possibly inevitable demise to her partner. There was no way that he would take it well. Not after just getting her back.

“We’ll deal with Fakebug,” Adrien said confidently, finally getting to his feet. “This is just a temporary setback. We’ll get Tikki back for you. I…what? Why are you both looking at me like that?”

“We…may not have a lot of time left to do that,” Marinette admitted reluctantly.

Plagg, however, cut in bluntly.

“She’s dying, Adrien. She’s been dying ever since her Miraculous was stolen.”

“What?” Adrien’s eyes went wide again as he looked towards Marinette. The expression on her face must have confirmed it for him, because he then rounded on his kwami. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I didn’t know for certain,” Plagg said. “I suspected when the new Bug’s powers weren’t working right, but I never paid that much attention to this kind of stuff, so who knew? Besides, you already thought she was dead, what good would it have done to tell you otherwise if she was just going to kick the bucket in a month anyway? Whenever it happened to one of mine, they never lasted even that long. Not that I ever got to watch it happen, of course, but I knew when my power returned.”

“Whenever _what_ happened?” Adrien demanded.

At this, Marinette cut into the conversation, and explained everything Master Fu had told her about the consequences of the forcible separation that left Tikki’s power lingering in her. By the end of it, Adrien was pale.

“And…there’s nothing we can do to stop it?”

“We can get the earrings back,” Marinette said. “That’s the only way.”

“You _can’t_ die,” Adrien said, desperately. “I can’t lose you again.”

“Well, it’s hardly Plan A,” Marinette said, trying to sound reassuring and confident. “We’re going to have to try again, and soon. No doubt Papillon will take advantage of the divided team and then Paris will be in even more trouble.”

“So what’s the plan now?” he asked.

“Unfortunately,” Marinette said, frowning. “I don’t know. Not right now, anyway. There were people…witnesses. I don’t know what they assumed from seeing you and Fakebug fight, but…I need to wait until that becomes clear. I know Fakebug won’t trust Chat Noir any more, but there’s a good possibility that the rest of the city won’t, either.”

“That’s…not good,” Adrien said, grimacing.

“We don’t know yet,” she said, trying to sound reassuring. “But first, we shouldn’t hang around here for too long. We don’t know if she’ll come back.”

“Right,” he said, nodding. “Let’s go, then.” He started towards the door but Marinette grabbed him by the back of his jacket. Which was far less convenient than the tail, but he didn’t have that right now, so she had to improvise.

“What…?” he started to ask.

Marinette scooped up her discarded helmet and pressed it firmly onto Adrien’s head. He reached up towards it, but she pushed his hands away.

“But this is yours,” he said, confused.

“She knows who I am already,” Marinette pointed out. “She doesn’t know who you are. Let’s keep it that way.”

“Oh. Alright,” he said, shifting awkwardly.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Well, it’s just…never mind.”

“What?” Marinette said, crossing her arms stubbornly.

“It’s a pain to fix my hair after wearing a helmet,” he admitted. Marinette stared at him as Plagg started cackling.

“Are you kidding me?” she said, half incredulous and half exasperated. “You’re concerned about your _hair_ right now? We have bigger problems at the moment, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I _said_ ‘never mind’,” Adrien said sheepishly. Marinette sighed and took his arm, and Plagg suppressed his laughter as he dove under Adrien’s jacket.

“Come on,” she said as she pulled him towards the door. “I’ll help you fix your hair later, you vain cat. How do you even survive your fencing lessons?”

She didn’t wait for an answer as she poked her head out the door and scanned the empty streets and rooftops. Satisfied that they were alone, she eased her way out of the building, Adrien following quietly behind her.

Neither of them spoke as they made their way through the streets, Marinette frequently glancing up and around for any sign of Fakebug. Fortunately, it didn’t seem that she’d come back – most likely she had wanted to get cleaned up rather than retransform right away. And Tikki, if Marinette remembered correctly, most likely needed more to recharge than she had before, because of how her power was split into Marinette.

“So,” Adrien said as they slipped into her house, finally removing the helmet. Marinette rolled her eyes as he futilely tried to smooth down his hair. “What now?”

“Let’s check the news, to start,” Marinette said, leading them up to her room.

The news wasn’t anything good. Marinette and Adrien and even Plagg watched in tense silence as report after report poured in about the situation, Nadja’s peppy voice doing little to reassure anyone as she told the city of Chat Noir’s apparent turnabout and warned them to stay cautious – they didn’t know what he would do next.

“This is worse than when the sculptor got akumatized and impersonated me,” Adrien said grimly. “At least then I could protest my innocence.”

“And I was able to stick up for you then, too,” Marinette said. “I just…don’t know what to do.” She leaned forward, head in her hands as she tried to hide her hopelessness.

“Hey,” Adrien said gently. “We’ll figure something out. You always do. And I’m _not_ going to let you die.”

She lifted her head up to smile gratefully at him.

“I say we Cataclysm her,” Plagg interrupted. “See how _she_ likes it.”

“We are _not_ doing that,” Marinette said. “I don’t want to traumatize anyone who might see it happen. _And_ she might turn it back on Chat Noir again. It’s too risky, if you can even get close enough.” She stood up and paced around in front of the screen as the news reporters continued to speculate. “But we need to act quickly, before Papillon does. One advantage we have is that she doesn’t know that I healed you. But we can’t count on that – she’ll be expecting another attack if you appear on the scene again. But if there’s an Akuma, we can’t just let her fight it on her own…”

“She doesn’t know about your power, right?” Adrien asked.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Marinette said, biting her lip. “I’ve been pretty careful with it so far – using it like I just did with you…that was the first time I’d done anything like that. But,” she hesitated for a moment, “she could probably figure it out, if she saw you all fixed up.”

“But for now, it’s still an advantage,” he said.

“True,” Marinette agreed. “But…”

“Looks like we have more trouble,” Plagg said as he gestured around a piece of cheese at the screen, apparently the only one among them actually paying attention to the news report any longer.

Marinette turned back to the screen.

“…just in, an _exclusive_ interview with Ladybug herself…”

“Oh, no,” Marinette groaned, sinking back down onto her chaise. “Nothing good can come of this.”

Fakebug appeared on screen, and Marinette resisted the urge to growl at the image. Fortunately, Plagg picked up the slack, and if Marinette was being honest, pulled off a much fuller growl than she could’ve managed anyway. Then again, she wasn’t a magical cat god, so that was to be expected.

“I’m sure everyone has heard by now, but today, Chat Noir turned on me,” Fakebug said, brushing up at her eyes as if to wipe away tears. Marinette gritted her teeth and clenched her fists in response, glaring daggers at the screen as though it would somehow affect anything.

“Dramatic, isn’t she?” Plagg said.

“I don’t know why,” Fakebug sniffed. “He’s not akumatized. But he demanded my Miraculous and when I refused, he attacked me. I don’t know if he’s working for Papillon, or just for himself. He…I should have seen the signs; I knew something wasn’t quite right with him for a while now, but I didn’t want to believe it…”

Marinette was going to _break_ something.

“But I promise, I won’t let him win. I will continue being your hero even as Chat Noir turns his back on me and on Paris,” Fakebug concluded, continuing to sniff all the while.

Adrien sighed, frowning deeply.

“Are we _sure_ Cataclysming her is off the table?” Plagg asked, looking towards Marinette.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Marinette said, a touch reluctantly. “But we _will_ make her pay for that.”

“No one’s going to be on my side now,” Adrien said. “If she hadn’t said anything, maybe people would’ve given me the benefit of the doubt. But everyone is going to believe ‘Ladybug’. I’m not looking forward to Ladyblog’s take.”

“I can try to talk to Alya,” Marinette offered. “But given how things have been lately, I’m not sure she’ll listen to me.”

“It’s worth a try,” Adrien said. He looked at the clock and grimaced. “But I can’t stay. I really do have a photoshoot today; I just told you the wrong time.”

“Oh. Alright,” Marinette said, wishing he didn’t have to leave. It was a silly feeling, she knew – they’d been hanging out constantly over the past week, and she’d seen him plenty at school, but right now it felt like she’d only just gotten her partner back after so long. She was sure he felt similarly, if not even more strongly since he had thought she had died.

“Will you be okay?” he asked as she helped tackle his hair into shape again before seeing him out the door.

“I don’t know, Adrien,” she said quietly. “But I don’t think I’m going to drop dead in the next twenty-four hours, so please don’t worry about me.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” he said, but there was no heat in his tone. “I…I’ll see you tomorrow, my Lady.”

Marinette watched him leave.

.

.

The shrill tones of an alarm cut through the air far too early for Marinette’s liking, and the glare of the sun earned her grumbling as she shook herself from sleep. She stretched, wincing at the stiffness and aching across her body. She _really_ shouldn’t have fallen asleep at her desk. It was a bad enough habit for a perfectly healthy teenager; it was even worse with her current condition.

After Adrien had left, she had spent the rest of the day and into the night trying to come up with a plan. She scowled at all the discarded and crumpled pieces of paper tossed haphazardly away from her desk. For all her efforts, the morning had come and she was still empty handed.

At least she could get a chance to talk to Alya at school, though she doubted much would come of that.

Fu would probably be able to help her, but she still didn’t want to risk leading Fakebug to him. Perhaps if she went in a different disguise…yes, perhaps Adrien would let her borrow his fencing clothes. It would be a little large on her, but temporarily adequate. She made a mental note to ask him about that as she went about preparing for her day.

The pre-class conversations were as bad as Marinette had dreaded. Nearly everyone was convinced that Chat Noir had turned supervillain, and even the few that weren’t seemed doubtful of him. A few brought up the Impostor incident, but others countered that the real Chat Noir had made his appearance quickly afterwards, but no such thing had happened this time.

Adrien gave her a sad, strained smile as she passed his seat, and she returned it as best she could. She was sure that the topic of conversation was bothering him even more.

Alya wasn’t here yet, but Marinette really wasn’t sure whether it was even worth bringing it up. No doubt Alya was set in her theories already, and wasn’t keen on having them challenged. And with Marinette’s distrust of ‘Ladybug’ already known, Alya would likely dismiss her out of hand when it came to this.

Marinette sighed. Coming to school early was a mistake. She stood up, excusing herself to the bathroom with the intention of coming back just before the start of class in order to minimize the amount of tongue-biting she had to do listening to her classmates’ conversation. She was tempted to skip, again, but she knew she had already missed a lot more class than she should.

So she wandered the school hallways, avoiding the main traffic areas, and ducked past the caution tape down a currently unused hallway. It was currently unused due to suffering extensive damage in one of the more recent Akuma attacks, and naturally it hadn’t been fully repaired, like so much else in the city. They’d probably get repair crews in eventually, but they were in high demand, so for now, everyone worked around the damage.

It probably wasn’t the safest place to hang out, but Marinette wasn’t particularly worried about anything collapsing. Though it was dark from the lack of lighting, the walls looked stable enough, though there was one with a significant dent in it that was likely a result of someone getting slammed into it at high speed.

Marinette hoped it had been Fakebug.

She pressed her fingers up to the wall, running them idly along it. She breathed in, and out, and released the tension in her shoulders. The wall glowed red beneath her fingertips as it shifted and straightened under her guidance. The magic slowed and tapered off as her work completed; the wall standing pristine and solid as though it had never been touched.

She knew now that it was only a fraction of what she was capable of. But she could hardly fix up the entire school without people asking questions. This could easily be dismissed as something that got caught up in the next incomplete round of the Miraculous Cure, as long as no one had seen…

“Marinette?”

_Fuck._

Marinette whirled to see Alya silhouetted against the light at the end of the hallway, and fear rose up inside her. Just how much had Alya seen?

“Um…hi, Alya?” Marinette said nervously, her mind racing for an excuse as to why she’d be wandering the damaged hallway, and any possible way she could play off the magic.

“How could I not have noticed?” Alya said. “I’m a terrible friend.”

“No, no! Of course you’re not,” Marinette said, moving towards Alya quickly. But Alya took several steps back.

“You don’t have to do this, Marinette! You can fight him! Don’t listen to Papillon. I don’t know how long you’ve been akumatized, but you can still fight it!”

“I’m not akumatized, Alya,” Marinette said reassuringly. “I can explain! I just…”

Alya shook her head. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I know you think you’re doing what’s best. But Papillon is manipulating you. I’m sorry, but I have to get Ladybug to take you down.”

“Alya…”

But Alya cut her off with a sudden push, and Marinette stumbled to the ground as Alya took off running in the other direction. Marinette pushed herself up slowly from the floor, groaning. Just _great_ . Nothing was going right for her lately. As if the universal conviction that Chat Noir was a traitor wasn’t enough, now Alya _definitely _wasn’t going to listen to her if she thought Marinette was akumatized. And if she ever figured out otherwise, Marinette’s secret was out, after all the trouble she’d taken to protect it. She was just spiralling deeper and deeper into disaster, and there was no way out.

_Unless…_

Like a stroke of lightning, like the snap of realization at the height of battle, Marinette had sudden clarity and inspiration.

And more importantly, a _plan_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Alya tells the entire class that Marinette's been akumatized. But that's okay…Marinette can work with that.


	10. Creative Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in updating. Action scenes + winter writing slump = bad combination. Hopefully the final chapter won't take so long :)

Marinette was filled with restless excitement and energy, even the constant ache that wore her down couldn’t suppress this eager, giddy feeling. There was _nothing_ like figuring out the perfect solution to her problems, no matter what they were, and this one had been a particularly troublesome one.

Finally, there was light at the end of the tunnel.

She heard the pounding of feet behind her, and barely had enough time to turn around before Adrien barreled into her. She would’ve fallen over had he not gripped her shoulders with a frightening intensity.

“Adrien? Are you okay?” Marinette asked, perplexed as she looked up at him.

“Am I okay? Are _you_ okay?” he asked, sounding frantic. “You…you’re not…Alya said you were akumatized…”

“So you came running straight to me to deliver your Miraculous on a silver platter? Without even being transformed?” Marinette said incredulously. She wasn’t too surprised that Alya had told everyone that she’d been akumatized – in fact, at this point she was _counting _on it – but really, running to her would’ve been the _worst_ thing Adrien could’ve done had it actually been true.

He seemed to realize this, and released her with a sheepish shrug. “I panicked,” he admitted. “You’d been upset since yesterday, and…I wasn’t thinking.”

“Well, fortunately for you, I’m _fine_.” Marinette said, poking him in the nose. “I won’t let Papillon get to me so easily.”

“Good. I don’t know what I’d do if you ever got akumatized.”

“Clearly,” Plagg interjected dryly, floating up from Adrien’s jacket. Marinette shot him a glare – but only half-hearted, because she’d been thinking it too.

“Try to convince me that whatever my problem is, it’s Papillon’s fault. It’ll probably be true, and it could work out if I go after him,” Marinette said, with confidence. Had she given this an excessive amount of thought in the past? Probably. But it was good to be prepared for anything.

“I…uh, okay. I’ll keep that in mind,” Adrien said. “But please don’t get akumatized.”

“Well, actually,” Marinette started to say, even as Adrien paled. “I was thinking it’d be a good excuse.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“I don’t mean for _real_,” she clarified. “But it’ll be real as far as anyone else is concerned. Except Papillon, of course…but it’s worth the risk. If I can convince everyone that I’m an Akuma that’s taken control of Chat Noir…”

“Then you can clear my name, and go after Fakebug freely,” Adrien finished for her, a smile growing on his face. “An excellent plan. But how are you going to convince everyone of that?”

Marinette smiled, sharp and almost feral, and gestured with a bit of flair as magic flowed out of her hands, red sparks dancing and settling into a sharp needle with thread trailing off the end.

“I might have a few ideas,” she said.

.

.

“Alright, let’s hope I’m convincing,” Marinette said. She flexed her aching hands, uncomfortably aware of the ticking clock. “This needs to work, this time.”

“I have complete faith in you, my Lady,” Chat Noir said.

“Same to you,” she returned, and took a deep breath. She flipped open her sketchbook to the latest drawing – a sketch of how her “akumatized” form would look, and concentrated as she willed the magic to take its shape around her.

“Wow,” Chat Noir breathed, and Marinette had to agree with the assessment. She no longer had a reason to hold back, and without the dire immediacy of the situation before, she could enjoy the thrill of shaping this power, creating her new look from thin air.

An elegant dress formed itself around her, made of no earthly fabric but rather that peculiar material that her Ladybug suit had once been made of, flexible and light and thin and absolutely indestructible. The dress itself seemed to shimmer under the midday sun, a vision of pale pink that faded into silver as it traveled up to her neck, and her hands only just poked out of the sleeves, themselves enveloped in thin black gloves. And though Marinette couldn’t see it, she knew the domino mask that framed her eyes matched those gloves, and the intricate spirals and patterns that shifted across the pink-and-silver dress. And caught lightly between her index finger and her thumb was the needle she had brought forth earlier.

All-in-all, it was a beautiful ensemble, one that ran the risk of being far too stylish compared to actual akuma victims – but perhaps it could be passed off as Papillon merely deferring to her own designs. After all, if anyone happened to stumble across her sketchbook, they would find this very design within it.

The release of magic left her with a small sense of relief, and a larger sense of hunger. She gratefully took the sugary snacks Chat Noir held out in offering to her.

“Thank you, kitten,” she said, smiling warmly at him, and he all but glowed under her affectionate gaze.

“I missed hearing you call me that,” he said, but the usual flirtatious quality to the statement was betrayed by the earnest, almost bashful tone that seeped in. Marinette blushed only slightly, but she couldn’t help but be taken in by that sincerity, as she always was.

She felt her strength and the magic that both bolstered and condemned her return with renewed vigor as she devoured the sweets and cookies. It made the ache worsen as she was filled with magic once more, but it was nothing she couldn’t get past. She would need any advantage she could get for the battle ahead, and it didn’t matter so much if it hastened her deterioration, because it would no longer matter if this went well. Or if it went poorly, for that matter…

Marinette shook her head. Spiraling now wouldn’t help anything. They had one shot at this, and they would get that shot _right_. They could do it. She knew they could.

“Time to make our entrance?” Chat Noir asked, his head tilted slightly to the side as if it might help him get a better read on her current state.

“I think so,” Marinette said, biting her lip as she shifted position. “I’m just...”

“Overthinking it?”

“Probably,” she admitted, with a sheepish huff of a laugh. “Well?”

“After you, my Lady,” Chat Noir said, with an exaggerated bow as he swept his arm out in front of them.

But when they leapt from the rooftop, they leapt together, Marinette settling comfortably in Chat Noir’s arms, since the lingering magic that had become a part of her didn’t make her as physically strong or invulnerable as her Ladybug transformation had. Chat Noir, on the other hand, could jump easily from roof to roof, and it wasn’t long before they reached the television studio.

From there, it was only a matter of causing a scene.

“I am Creative Control!” Marinette announced imperiously as she burst downstairs, smirking as every camera in the room swiveled frantically to catch the first glimpse of her. “And I think this place could use some _redecorating_!”

The standard akuma alert began blaring throughout the studio. Marinette glanced to the ceiling, seeing only the hint of a shadow that told her that her partner had slipped into position up in the rafters. He couldn’t reveal himself just yet – he was her ace up her sleeves, and he wouldn’t show himself until all the players arrived.

With that, Marinette set about her work, turning the studio into an elaborate trap – though to the layman’s eye, it would just look like gaudy decoration. And the layman’s eye she held – those who hadn’t fled at the sight of her kept their cameras tracking her every move. Marinette pretended to be oblivious and uncaring of them, but made every movement deliberately to draw their attention.

_Now, take the bait, Fakebug._

Everything depended on that. If she didn’t show up, all of this would be for nothing.

But Marinette didn’t think she’d stay away. Fakebug never could resist a chance to get more attention, and even on the chance that she recognized Marinette in this garb, why would she turn down the opportunity to humiliate Marinette further? Marinette doubted that she would be scared off. After all, Fakebug believed she had already beaten her, and Chat Noir as well. What did she have to fear?

_Everything_, Marinette thought viciously as she paused to survey her handiwork. Fakebug was going to _regret_ stealing Tikki, and hurting Chat Noir, and leaving the city to suffer for her selfishness.

She felt drained once again, and slipped out of view of the cameras to devour a snack bar Chat Noir had given her just before she’d entered the studio. Her strength returned. Marinette worried again about the effect this had on her body. She knew she had to expel the magic periodically to mitigate the effect of it building up within her, but magic beget magic, and using it so frequently seemed to be encouraging more to rush into her each time she replenished herself. And in a vicious cycle, she’d need to use it even more frequently to keep up…

No. She’d told herself not ten minutes ago that she wasn’t going to spiral into her anxious thoughts. She could do this. She _would_ do this. She wasn’t about to drop dead, she could fight to the end of this.

Marinette heard the yo-yo before she saw it, and she rolled to the ground as she whirled out of its path. She was barely down for a second before she jerked herself up to her feet, tracing the yo-yo’s path as it flew back to Fakebug’s hand. Her lips were twisted up in something that might’ve been called a smile. Marinette didn’t doubt that Fakebug recognized her.

Still, Marinette had her part to play. She stuck her own hand out.

“Here to hand over those earrings, I hope?” Marinette said with false sweetness.

Fakebug scoffed, and launched the yo-yo again. This time, Marinette launched herself forward, catching on one of her “decorations” that spun into the yo-yo’s path, tangling the gaudy ribbons with the weapon and drawing it short of Marinette herself. Marinette was sure to flash Fakebug with the most smug and aggravating grin she could muster, as she wound her finger around one of the ribbons and tied it tighter around the yo-yo.

“Hmm, I don’t think you can do much without this,” she said, with a small giggle.

Fakebug snarled, dropping her own end of the yo-yo to charge at Marinette herself. Marinette dodged out back into view of the cameras, but wasn’t quick enough to avoid getting caught in a grapple. Fakebug bore down on her, pushing with her suit-enhanced strength – Marinette just hoped she could push back convincingly enough without it.

“Finally desperate enough to turn to Papillon?” Fakebug hissed in Marinette’s ear as Marinette strained and struggled against her. “I suppose I’m only surprised that it took _this_ long.”

Marinette didn’t respond with more than a grunt, too focused on holding her own against Fakebug. It felt as though her arms might break as she tried to hold the other girl off. Marinette kicked out with her foot, scrabbling against the ground for one of her makeshift trip switches.

No good. She couldn’t concentrate on reaching it and concentrate on preventing Fakebug from ripping off every potential “akumatized” object on her. Not that it would matter, since she wasn’t actually akumatized, but if the deception was revealed…

But she didn’t have to worry, as Fakebug was slammed from her upper left. The pressure relieved, Marinette fell to the floor, aware out of the corner of her eyes as Fakebug now struggled with Chat Noir.

“You -” Fakebug gasped out.

Marinette pulled herself to her feet, ignoring the now much worse aching in her arms, and gave Fakebug another grin.

“You must’ve missed the ‘Control’ part of my name,” Marinette said. “Chat Noir’s been mine for, oh, I don’t know...”

Her words had their intended effect. Fakebug may not have bought them, but their audience certainly did. And with every camera on them, the whole city would soon “know” that Chat Noir had been under the influence of an supervillain when he had attacked “Ladybug”.

With Chat Noir’s reputation restored, they could now move onto the more important part of the plan – getting back the Miraculous.

Fakebug wrenched herself out of Chat Noir’s grip as he reached for the earrings, leveling them both with a death glare as she darted her eyes back and forth between them. Chat Noir twirled his staff in a threatening manner, stepping towards her. Fakebug seemed to realize that she was at a disadvantage, and made for her tangled yo-yo.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Marinette said, as Chat Noir extended his staff to block Fakebug’s path. But she merely took advantage of it, dodging and then gripping it briefly enough to launch herself over it, and yanked her yo-yo out of the nest of ribbons. She viciously plucked the last few snarled around it as Chat Noir came in for another blow, and Fakebug ducked and swung the yo-yo like a shield in front of her.

Chat Noir paced, never taking his eyes off of Fakebug, who stood likewise in standoff, while Marinette crept around to the side, pulling some long streamers down with her as she went and closed in on Fakebug.

“Ladybug, look out!”

Ah. Their audience wasn’t always a boon.

Fakebug struck quickly, and Marinette groaned as the yo-yo slammed into her ribcage. Chat Noir let out a wordless yell, charging at Fakebug, who retreated. Marinette gestured at Chat Noir, still lacking the breath to speak, but she hoped her meaning was clear: _don’t let her get away!_

He seemed to understand, or at least he was on the same page as her, because he gave her a short nod, the flung his staff at one of the banners Marinette had strung around the room. And, as she had intended, as one banner broke free, it caused a cascade of several others, all sliding in front of the exits and pulling taut.

Fakebug stopped and looked up in alarm. Seeing her escape route cut off, and Chat Noir pouncing back towards his weapon, she scowled and raised her yo-yo above her head.

“Lucky Charm!”

“Neat trick,” Marinette called, “but I can do it too!” And she could – though she’d mostly focused on creating exactly what she wanted, there was no reason why she couldn’t make her powers work as Lucky Charm did, to give her what she _needed_ instead. Concentrating, Marinette focused on calling the magic forth, but not directing it with any preconceptions. It was more difficult than it seemed, especially for someone like her who’s mind was constantly running with different plans and possibilities – but she calmed herself, thinking only of letting the power do its work, and she opened her eyes to find…

“A macaron?”

She blinked at it for a moment, then shrugged. She’d worked with weirder things. But at the moment, she couldn’t figure out anything to use it with.

Fakebug, on the other hand, hadn’t gotten the more apparently useful pair of scissors, though Chat Noir was doing a valiant job of preventing her from actually using them to cut a way out.

Marinette started to run towards the pair, but found herself diverted as their audience had taken to throwing whatever they could at her. She stamped her foot and let out a noise of frustration. Ducking aside, she changed course to one of her traps, and pulled on the hanging cord, which pulled on more banners that hadn’t yet fallen, snapping the thin strings that held them up. Too late, the audience realized what she had done, and they struggled to escape as the large banners fell on top of them. Pleased, Marinette turned and ran back towards Chat Noir and Fakebug.

As Chat Noir grappled with her, Fakebug holding her Charm out of reach, Marinette swept up along the side and plucked the scissors out of her hand. Fakebug thrashed in protest, turning to retaliate, but Chat Noir reached for her steadily counting-down earrings, which took her attention again.

“Hmm,” Marinette said, studying the scissors, before separating it into its two halves and tucking them away. She scooped up some of the fallen banner fabric and leapt back towards Chat Noir and Fakebug as they continued to struggle. She made brief eye contact with Chat Noir, trusting that he would guess her intentions, then went on the attack.

Darting in as quickly as she dared, Marinetted ducked and dodged the struggling pair, wrapping the fabric around Fakebug, taking care to avoid Chat Noir, who did his best to juggle staying out of her way and keeping Fakebug still. He continued to hold Fakebug as she thrashed against the fabric pinning her arms, until Marinette pulled out the scissors again, using each half like a giant, oddly shaped hemming pin to hold the fabric close. She wasn’t worried about stabbing Fakebug – the suit should guard against even Lucky Charms, but if it didn’t...well, Marinette couldn’t say she’d be sorry if Fakebug’s struggling got the girl scratched.

“Ready to get out of here?” Marinette asked Chat Noir as he hefted the struggling girl up off the ground.

“_Meow_ than ready,” he said, grinning. Fakebug’s earrings beeped, and he glanced down at them. “We’d better hurry, don’t want her to detransform in front of everyone,” he added quietly.

Nodding, Marinette picked up Chat Noir’s staff, and used it to cut through the barrier she had set up, and they quickly made their way back up to the roof, ignoring Fakebug’s protests. Marinette stuck the staff across the door behind them to prevent anyone who might try to follow them. She glanced at the skies, searching for any news helicopters that might spot them, and when satisfied there were none – probably too many destroyed by previous attacks to risk sending them out these days – she directed Chat Noir to set Fakebug down.

Which he did, rather unceremoniously. Marinette didn’t feel sorry about it.

“Going to take me to Papillon now?” Fakebug sneered, not even bothering with her facade of sweetness. “Going to be proud when you let the supervillain win?”

“Oh, no,” Marinette said, smiling venomously. “You’re all ours today, I’m afraid.”

Fakebug’s sneer faded, and confusion flickered in her eyes.

“Then how…?”

“You didn’t really think we were on Papillon’s side, did you?” Chat Noir asked. “That was only to put a stop to that slander you were putting out about me attacking you.”

“You _did_ attack me!”

“I had a good reason,” Chat Noir said, his voice dropping with a tinge of anger. “You hurt my Ladybug.” He nodded over towards Marinette. “And I’m taking that a whole lot less kindly than she is. And she’s not taking it kindly at all.”

“So,” Marinette continued off from him, “I’ll be taking my earrings back now, thank you.” She moved towards Fakebug, who struggled back and growled in frustration as she strained away from the heroes. The fabric started to tear under her determination, so Marinette released more of her magic to flick a rope around Fakebug instead.

“You!” Fakebug said in sudden realization, going still. “You’re the reason the Miraculous doesn’t work right!”

“No,” Marinette said. “_You_ are. I’m just the consequence. Just like all the other consequences, all the other things you broke and can’t fix. I’m just trying to set things right again.”

Fakebug jerked back again as Marinette reached towards the earrings, but as she did, the earrings gave their final beep, and the suit began to dissolve around her into speckles of light.

...And revealing the scowling, familiar face of Lila Rossi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, who _else_ was Fakebug going to be? I know a lot of you guessed correctly, anyway.
> 
> Next chapter: Marinette reunites with Tikki at last, and the heroes figure out what to do with their captive.


	11. Relief

Marinette blinked in confusion. But it was Chat Noir who spoke first.

“Lila?” he said, disbelief coloring his tone. Marinette was inclined to share it. Sure, Lila had still been angry after Marinette had apologized, but...she’d just disappeared, after that. Never returned to school after her first day; word was she was “traveling”, though Marinette supposed it wasn’t too surprising that that was another lie. But to go this far? To attack Marinette, to sacrifice the entire city for a...a petty grudge? Even Marinette wouldn’t have thought Lila would go this far. She hadn’t even given Lila thought much at all since the Volpina incident, really.

But there was something more important than Lila at the moment, and Marinette’s eyes were drawn to the small kwami that had fallen beside the bound Lila.

“Tikki?” Marinette said, feeling a lump in her throat. The kwami rolled slightly towards the sound of her voice, and as her eyes met Marinette’s, they filled with tears.

“Oh, _Tikki_,” Marinette said, leaving Chat Noir and Lila to glare at one another as Marinette rushed to scoop up the little kwami. She felt tears come to her own eyes as she took in how pale and weak poor Tikki was – she had never seen her so worn down before, not even after the most brutal battles. Marinette cuddled Tikki in her hands close to her chest, before rounding on Lila.

“How could you _do_ this to her?” she demanded of their captive, furious.

“I didn’t do it,” Lila growled. “She never worked right.”

“She’s not a _machine_,” Marinette spat. “Don’t you see what you’ve done? To Tikki, to the city, to everyone...all this just because you were mad at me?”

“You _humiliated_ me,” Lila said. “You thought you were so much better than me. But all you ever had over me was some special jewelry, so all I had to do was take that from you, and I’d show everyone that you were _nothing_.” She paused, catching her breath from her venomous outburst. “And I did, almost. No one could even tell the difference between us, you know. No one even noticed that their precious Ladybug had been replaced.”

“_I_ noticed,” Chat Noir interjected, his voice low and dangerous. “And you lied to me. You told me she was dead.”

Lila sneered at him. “And how easily you bought it.”

He made a sharp motion towards her, but Marinette cut him off with a shake of her head. She faced Lila again.

“So you let the city suffer, to prove a point,” Marinette said coldly. Yes, it had infuriated her that no one could recognize that Lila had not been the real Ladybug. But she wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

“It’s your own fault,” Lila said, “You kept the power from me. I could’ve had everything, but you wanted to keep the glory for yourself. Even in my revenge, you still managed to humiliate me. But that’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

Marinette closed her eyes and took a deep breath to stop herself from snapping something she’d regret. She refused to let Lila guilt her – Lila knew nothing of the actual situation, and Marinette knew that there’d been no choice in draining the earrings’ power.

“No,” she said. “That’s not what I wanted. I never wished to make things worse between us, and I regret my initial actions. But that doesn’t justify what you’ve done. I didn’t keep the power away, you _ripped_ it away. You may not have known what you were doing, but it _was_ your doing – and only yours.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Lila said, “I’m never going to forgive you.”

“Fine,” Marinette said. She set Tikki down gently and reached for Lila’s ears. “But I’m taking back my earrings. And I’m fixing your mess.”

With that, she plucked the earrings free. Lila had given up struggling, but she glared defiantly as Marinette removed the Miraculous from her, so fiercely that Marinette was briefly worried Lila might try to bite her.

But Lila only laughed.

“Take them back, then. Go on and take back your glory and your adulations. For now. But remember that I know who you are now. I can undo you whenever I want.”

Chat Noir stepped forward, his tail lashing behind him.

“You’ll stay quiet if you know what’s good for you,” he said. Lila glared back at him, unimpressed.

“And just what are you going to do?” she asked, her lips curling. “You can’t hold me. You can’t even upset me. Or suddenly I’ll have a little butterfly for a confidant, won’t I?”

Marinette’s heart clenched. She hated to admit it, but Lila was right – even though Marinette had gotten her earrings back, they were at an impasse. Worse, because unless they kept the girl under constant guard, there was nothing they could do to prevent an akuma from reaching her. And – she glanced over at Chat Noir – as tempting as it was, Cataclysming her wasn’t an option, either. Not one that they could take in good conscience, anyway.

“Marinette...”

Feeling a fresh stab of pain at how weak Tikki’s voice was, Marinette knelt back down to the ground to pick up the kwami so that she wouldn’t have to strain herself to speak.

“What is it, Tikki?” Marinette asked, doing her best to keep the worry from her voice. She wouldn’t let Lila have the satisfaction of rattling her.

“You...” Tikki said, trailing off into a weak cough, “we have to take her to..._him_. He’ll know...what to do...”

Marinette bit her lip. She had little doubt about who _he_ was, but…

“Are you sure, Tikki? She already knows too much, I don’t want to put him in danger too.”

“Trust me...Marinette.”

Marinette screwed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and reopened them.

“Okay,” she said. Because she did trust Tikki. If Tikki was willing to take the risk of bringing Lila to Master Fu, then there had to be a good reason. Even if Lila’s face reflected a promise to ruin everyone Marinette held dear. “Chat Noir, take her to ground. I’ll meet you there after I get out of this,” she poked at her outfit. After giving him brief directions towards (though not exactly at) Master Fu’s place, he withdrew his staff from the door and set off, a scowling, but still bound Lila in hand.

“Here, Tikki,” Marinette said, shuffling around for the macaron that she’d ended up with earlier. Tikki gratefully took it, nibbling on it at first, gradually gaining the energy to eat with more vigor. When she was finished, she flew up to Marinette to nuzzle her cheek.

“Oh, Marinette! I missed you! And I was so worried...even though the city was suffering, I dreaded the day my power would come back, because you...I would’ve...because of me, you would’ve...”

“It’s not your fault, Tikki!” Marinette said. “If only I’d been able to hold Lila off, this never would’ve happened. And besides...I’ll be alright now, won’t I? Now that I have these back?” She held out the earrings.

Tikki nodded, still sniffling. “Yes, but you’ll have to wear them for the rest of your life. And some things can’t be undone. Channels opened can’t be closed.”

“I know,” Marinette said. “Master Fu told me; this power will remain flowing through me until I die. But as long as we’re together, we’ll both be alright, won’t we?”

“Yes,” Tikki said. “The Miraculous will take the burden of the magic off of you, which will allow your body to heal and rebuild from it. But I’m still...so _sorry_, Marinette. The Miraculous were made so that this wouldn’t happen when humans wielded our power.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Marinette reiterated, though she doubted that they’d agree on blame any time soon. “But we should get going, we still need to deal with Lila.”

“What a wicked girl,” Tikki said, shuddering. “She was just...awful. I don’t know how one person can carry such venom in their heart.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Tikki,” Marinette said, as she pinned the earrings to her clothes – she wasn’t going to put them in her ears without washing them first, and besides, her piercings had long since healed over. She would need to get them redone eventually, but for now, they were staying on her clothing. “We can talk about it later,” she added sympathetically, before Tikki could protest that it wasn’t Marinette’s fault, “Paris needs us, so transform me!”

The familiarity of the transformation, so long missed, washed over Marinette and she nearly could’ve cried from it. But she had a job to do, and so she swung off over the rooftops, delighting in the way the wind rushed against her as she zipped from roof to roof, the exhilaration of near-flight. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed it – perhaps when this was all over, she’d just spend the entire day leaping across the city, taking it in the city again as she once knew it, from high above, as only she and Chat Noir could appreciate it.

After she fixed it, of course.

With a soft thump, she landed next to Chat Noir in his hiding place, though she doubted he would’ve remained hidden if there had really been that many people around, what with Lila’s grumbling.

“Hello, my Lady,” Chat Noir said, his eyes and grin bright at the sight of her familiar suit. “I must say you wear that look well – far better than this one ever did.”

“Oh, you think so?” Marinette teased, feeling lighter, happier than she had in months. “I have to agree, I think it suits me much better.”

“Are you done making fun of me?” Lila demanded. “Don’t forget who still holds the cards, here.”

“Not for long,” Chat Noir said. “Once we see Ladybug’s friend, he’ll...er, what _is_ he going to do, exactly?”

Marinette didn’t know the answer to that. “Let’s just go find him,” she said instead.

She led him, and their captive, down the street to Master Fu’s place, and knocked on his door. It opened, and Master Fu cautiously peeked out, his eyes widening when he took her in, full costume and all, and he swept his eyes over Chat Noir and their struggling captive.

“We caught the thief,” Marinette said, rather unnecessarily. “I wouldn’t have come here, but she knows too much, and Tikki said to come here.”

He nodded warily, and ushered them in. “Come in, then, quickly.” When they had sat down – or in Lila’s case, been propped up, still stuck in her wrappings – he turned to Marinette. “I worried, when you stopped coming here.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” she answered, and indicated Lila, “she found out who I was, and I didn’t want to risk leading her here. I’m sorry to have worried you.”

“A wise decision,” Fu said, “but I wish you had called to explain.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think of it.”

He waved it off. “Still, no harm done. And I’m glad you have been able to get your earrings back, Ladybug. Paris will be better off for it, and you as well. As for this thief...” he said, turning to their captive, “do you know the harm that you have done?”

Lila turned on the waterworks. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” she wailed. “But I couldn’t get all the cruel things Ladybug said to me out of my head. I just wanted to do better by Paris...”

“Oh, save it,” Chat Noir cut in, and Marinette was grateful, because she was about to say something far less kind. “Don’t even pretend to be the victim here; you hurt Ladybug, and you _wanted_ to hurt her.”

“No one here is going to fall for your lies, Lila,” Marinette added. To Master Fu, she added, “Lila was akumatized into Volpina all those months ago, and she never forgave me for it. She’s always been a liar, but I never thought she’d go this far.”

“Fine,” Lila said, her tears drying up instantly. “I see you’ve got everyone here on your side, so what’s the point? Your adoring fans will hang on your every word. I enjoyed it, when it was my word, anyway. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“You really have no remorse for your actions, young lady?” Fu asked.

Lila didn’t answer, so Marinette spoke up. “She’s threatened to tell Papillon everything as soon as she gets the chance.”

“Then I suppose we will have to make sure she doesn’t get that chance,” Fu said. “I hesitate to recommend this, but when her determination to cause harm with what she knows is so apparent, I think we must make her forget altogether.”

Marinette frowned. “Why the hesitation? Surely if it’s possible to make someone forget my identity, isn’t that incredibly useful?”

“I’m afraid it’s not nearly so selective a process, Ladybug.”

“Ah.” So it would erase all her memories, then, leaving her completely amnesiac. Now Marinette could understand why he hesitated to use such a drastic measure.

Lila, too, seemed to pick up on the implications.

“You...you can’t!” she said, and Marinette even felt a bit of sympathy for her in that moment, because that fear was perhaps the most genuine thing Marinette had ever seen from her. “You can’t just wipe my mind; destroy who I am, just because I know something you don’t want me to know!”

“Misusing a Miraculous can have far worse consequences, young lady,” Fu said quietly. “For yourself, as well as others.”

“Do you even know who you are, Lila? Under all the lies you’ve told?” Marinette added, taking no pleasure in it or what they would need to do to her. “Maybe a fresh start could do you some good.”

.

.

.

It was evening by the time they dropped the amnesiac Lila off at her home, the sun drifting low in the sky just enough to glare into their eyes, but not yet bringing out the vivid hues of sunset. Neither of the heroes let that stop them as they leapt and swung themselves up to the highest point in the city that was still standing.

“I don’t know how I feel about it,” Marinette said, rolling the scissor halves between her red-gloved hands as she leaned against her partner. “I don’t feel happy about what we did to her, but I don’t feel bad about it, either. At least, not as much as maybe I should. Mostly, I just feel relieved that it’s over. I don’t think I have room in me to feel anything but that right now.”

“Maybe that’s okay,” Chat Noir said. He leaned into her space, and threaded his ribbon flower through the eyes of the scissors. “I’m just happy to have you by my side properly again, my Lady.”

“I suppose that’s something I’m glad for, too,” she said. She watched as he finished tying the ribbon flower around the scissors. “Things...won’t be the same, though. So much has changed.”

“Whatever happens, we’ll face it together,” he said. “Like this, or at school, or wherever we end up – we’re a team, Chat Noir and Ladybug, no matter what.”

“Ladybug and Chat Noir, you mean,” she corrected with a small, teasing smile. She held out the scissors, tied together with his ribbon, and together they launched it into the sky.

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

The remains of Fakebug’s Lucky Charm burst apart into swarms of ladybugs, which swept across the city in endless streams. Bit by bit, the city was built back up, the months of accumulated damage that had always been not quite fixed finally restored as the ladybugs dove into every crack and crevice. With Tikki’s power united through Marinette and the Miraculous at last, they made quick and easy work of it, the world set right as though it had never been disturbed, not a trace of Papillon’s deeds to be seen. It was beautiful to watch.

The citizens would no doubt be full of questions, and Marinette would have to come up with something to answer them with soon. And Papillon, too, was a concern – had he even noticed the fake? What would he think had happened, when this had happened without him sending out an akuma?

But those were concerns for tomorrow. For now, Marinette had her Miraculous, and her kwami, and her partner, and her city. And for now, that was all she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's finally done! The first time I've actually completed a multichapter fic - thank you all for your patience and sticking with it. I hope you enjoyed the story~

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [Dreamwidth](https://peppermint-shamrock.dreamwidth.org/) for daily WIP excerpts and sneak peaks, or follow my [Miraculous Tumblr blog](https://ladyofcreation.tumblr.com/)!


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